


Transfixed

by LexiLulu



Category: Colin Firth - Fandom, Eggsy Unwin - Fandom, Harry Hart - Fandom, Kingsman, Kingsman: The Secret Service - Fandom, Taron Egerton - Fandom, hartwin - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Anal Sex, Drag Queen, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Guns, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love, M/M, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Spies, Transvestite, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-08-30 04:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8518474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LexiLulu/pseuds/LexiLulu
Summary: Guns have been prohibited world wide, yet the weapons are still available in certain circles. On assignment to bring down a gun ring, Kingsman agent Harry Hart meets the enchanting Liza Lovegood, a young drag queen. In his quest to protect and save lives, Harry Hart may find himself wrapped in something more than he'd ever imagined possible.Non-Con/Rape happens outside the story. The acts themselves are not described in detail but the after effects are.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [somethingtreeish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingtreeish/gifts).



> As it is currently Taron Egerton's birthday, I am posting the beginning of this story. I've gifted it to my wonderful friend and beta, somethingtreeish — you should read her stuff. I love Harry and Eggsy, or "Haggsy" as I like to call them even though I know their ship name is "Hartwin," and I also am fascinated by drag queens. I hope this does everyone justice because it is not my aim to offend. Do enjoy!

There is something about her, the way the heels and hose lengthen her legs. He could get lost in the swivel of her hips but that is not his mission. His mission is to protect her, but from his seat in the dark club, it won't hurt to simply gaze. He is well aware of his surroundings; he always is. Purple curls hang to her hips as her corset only serves to further the drives of every man seated along the thin runway. It was easy to see why she is the night's last performer — she is young, confident, beautiful and extremely flexible.

She smiles as the man in front of her throws several notes onto the stage. She bends precariously low to sweep her small fingers over her earnings, giving the man a perfect view of her ass as he cheers.

Harry can ignore that one. The one he can't ignore is sitting in a booth to his right, a plume of smoke billowing from the cigar tucked between his fingers. An entrepreneur with billions to spare, Fitzwilliam Knightley was suspected of running guns between Europe and Russia, a trade forbidden recently by the U.N. The death toll had risen so much in recent years, the world leaders came together to ban all arms and ammunition. Some were reluctant to let go.

Harry hadn't been bothered by the decision — while Kingsman favored guns, he certainly doesn't need one.

Knightley narrows his eyes at the young performer swinging nimbly around the pole, her arms and core a testament to her strength and grace. He is going to make a move on her eventually.

Harry knows that was one of Fitzwilliam's vices — young dancers in charge of their bodies with the charm of a siren — and he also knows the man's nightly companions were often reported missing days later. He won't let that happen to her, not this time.

Liza Lovegood drops to the stage on her back as the song ends, leaving the crowd roaring. She pops up quickly, gives an enthusiastic wave and skips behind the curtain.

Harry Hart finishes his brandy so as not to look suspicious as another girl leads Fitzwilliam towards the back. He'd paid for a private dance and the girl will be fine as long as she doesn't leave with him. This particular girl is not Harry's business.

"You like what you see?" the voice asks, raising every hair on Harry's body. He is supposed to have better control of these things. He is a Kingsman, dammit. Harry doesn't answer or flinch when the hand settles on his shoulder. Beautiful sparkling black nails reflect the blue light overhead and Harry holds his breath as she saunters around him. He could have told you from across the room she is a bit broader than the other girls, but he also could have told you it is solid muscle. She isn't quite tall enough to be considered a leggy babe but not short enough to be called adorable, yet none of this stops Harry from glancing at her legs wound in black fishnet. She notices as she sits, swinging her heels onto the edge of the table in front of him. She reclines in her chair, one hand going precariously to her lips. "Too shy to speak? We get your kind in here all the time."

"I have nothing to say."

Liza Lovegood smirks. "You're new here but have a reason for coming. It's your third night in a row."

"Can a man not enjoy the spectacle of pretty people partially clad, spinning around poles?"

He knows the shorter he is with her, the better off they would be. He doesn't need to get attached, he just needs to keep her alive.

"I think there's more to it than that," she says, dropping her legs to the floor and leaning towards the gentleman. "Anyone I can hook you up with? Fuschia's really vibrant this time of night."

"No, thank you." Harry's eyebrow quirks at the sight of Knightley emerging from the depths of club.

"After a patron then, are we?" Liza quips, brushing the pad of her finger over the cuff of his sleeve. Harry doesn't flinch which must have surprised her — her perfectly painted lip quivers almost imperceptibly.

"No, not quite," Harry says. "When does your shift end?"

"Five minutes ago," Liza answers, daring to drop her finger to his wrist. She's disappointed his pulse doesn't even spike beneath her touch. This one is good.

"Do you have any plans?"

"Should I, love?"

Harry catches the gleam in her eye. It would be so easy to take her home, to a hotel, anywhere really, and he knows she's up for it at the right price. That's not his business though.

Fitzwilliam Knightley is, and he's currently glaring at Harry with everything in his soul. Harry isn't remotely frightened and returns his gaze to the fascinating creature in front of him.

"No, you should just go home."

"I've got bills to pay and mouths to feed, babe," Liza says. "Going home right now at the top of a good night would be bad for business."

"I'll pay you to go home."

"Will you be coming with me?” She teasingly licks her lips after the words, an eyebrow quirked in invitation.

"Tempting," Harry says, playing it nonchalantly yet knowing his fingers are aching to touch her skin, "but I can't. I have pressing matters to attend to. Please allow me to pay for your services for the night and take you home."

"Why wouldn't I take your money and pick somebody up on the corner after you've left? Pull twice as much?"

"Liza, please," Harry says. "I'm giving you the night off. I'll pay for your services for the whole week if that would help."

"The whole week?"

"It's not about the money."

"Why are you doing this for me?” She asks quietly, her facade slipping ever so slightly. He’s sincere and she knows it.

Harry leans forward in his chair, acting a man simply trying to get lucky. "You must know people of your particular profession are disappearing. I can't let that happen to you."

"How do I know you're not the one taking people in my profession?"

"I wouldn't give warning," Harry answers. That's the truth.

Liza sighs and looks at her hand resting on his. She's gotten out of worse situations. "Okay."

"Excellent. Thank you, Liza." Harry squeezes the fingers in his own. "Do you need anything?"

"My bag is the break room. Give me two minutes."

Harry nods and watches her go, the sway of her hips almost enough to distract him from seeing Knightley leave alone.

Liza Lovegood emerges from the back hall, a smile on her shiny red lips. "Do I get to know the name of my temporary savior?"

"Harry Hart," he supplies.

"You must be well off, Mr. Hart, to afford me for a week," Liza says. "You're positive you don't want me to come home with you?"

The guard at the door holds it open for the two of them, and Harry gently tugs Liza's elbow to guide her towards his car.

"That won't be necessary," Harry answers, even though he knows a long shower is in order. She stands just beneath him in her heels and Harry shivers with the thought of pressing her against the wall and kissing her until neither of them can breathe. She leans against him unabashedly, and Harry figures she must be cold. She is only wearing lingerie after all.

He pulls his coat off and drapes it around her.

"That's kind of you," Liza says, tugging it closer around her body. She breathes in his scent, something like the best spices mixed with pineapple and lavender. Fuck, he smells good. And he's obviously the most attractive man Liza’s ever seen — tall, a head full of hair for a man his age, and she can tell he's perfectly built beneath his suit. She wishes he would change his mind — she isn't even sure she would charge him.

"This is the car," Harry says, opening the door. Liza slides inside gracefully, and Harry scoots in behind her. She gives the driver her address even though he already knows it, and the car pulls away. They're quiet as they ride, Liza staring at the window, her hands running over the sleeves of his coat. Harry keeps his eyes ahead because he is worried what will happen if he looks at the lovely person beside him.

The car wouldn't go unnoticed in Liza's neighborhood except it's early in the morning and the streets are empty. Harry exits quickly and helps her from the seat.

"Thank you, Mr. Hart," she says, her hand still in his. "Will I see you again?"

"I think so," Harry says. "Until then."

Liza bats her eyelashes at him, and Harry's breath hitches when she kisses his cheek. She extricates herself from his coat and passes it to him. "Thank you, Mr. Hart, for everything."

"What about the payment?"

"Bring it by the club tomorrow," she says, running her finger over his collar. "That way I know I'll see you again."

She twists the doorknob and smiles as she closes it behind her.

Harry curses to himself, morosely wishing Liza Lovegood hadn't been his charge. He wouldn't have it any other way though. Liza Lovegood is his responsibility, and he is going to do his best to take care of her.

For Harry Hart knows underneath the purple curling wig, the penciled-in brows, the makeup contoured over her cheeks and along her jaw, the padding against her chest and the easy way she carries herself is Gary "Eggsy" Unwin, and Harry is not going to fail him like he failed his father.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this! It's been something totally different to write and I'm glad it's being received well so far.
> 
> I listened to a lot of Years & Years while writing this whole thing so feel free to do that, too.

"He's here," Pippa Fiddlerim snickers, pulling her brunette hair from her head. "Looks like sex on legs too."

"Smells even better," Liza says, setting her face with spray.

"Go get him," Opal cheers, spanking Liza's bum lightly. Liza grins as she gives herself a once over in the mirror. She's flawless tonight.

"And now the one you've all been waiting for," the announcer's voice carries over the speakers, "Liza Lovegood."

She's blond and beautiful as always. Confidently strutting down the runway, she gives that look she's known for, the one that makes all the men dig into their pockets.

It's Robyn's "Dancing On My Own," and it's a tune she knows well. Her heels click on the stage as she saunters in front, drawing the eyes of everyone in the room.

Harry understands. Liza Lovegood is extremely comfortable in her body, dropping to her knees. Fitzwilliam Knightley straightens in his chair; Harry notices and frowns. Liza easily flattens her back but quickly arches it, giving everyone a fantasy of how she could be in a bed. There's no shame in her soul, and Harry is transfixed.

And so is Knightley.

Harry watches as Knightley calls over one of the other girls, eying Liza all the while. The girl nods and disappears only to return with Dean, something like the club's manager and chief security officer. Harry also knows he's Eggsy's stepfather, and he doesn't have a high opinion of the man.

They whisper to each other and Harry is smugly happy he's using Kingsman money to pay for the company of a young drag queen in the name of safety. He'll be damned if Knightley touches Liza, or Eggsy for that matter, at all.

The trio whispers together conspiratorially, but Harry knows what they’re saying. Harry’s fine watching Liza Lovegood twist around the metal pole, her face open and happy. She seems more radiant tonight than Harry’s ever seen her, and he claps as she finishes with a flourish.

“Do you need some help with this next number?” the announcer comes over the speakers and Liza spins loosely around the pole, dropping to a squat on her heels before nodding. She bites a nail mischievously and grins, and the place erupts.

“It’s the last song of the night,” the announcer says, “so get your money ready, gentlemen! Let’s make it count."

Liza waves to the audience before slinking to the back of the stage and she holds her hands up. Her smile grows as Pippa Fiddlerim and Opal slip their hands in hers.

The trio pops perfectly in sync as the drum kicks in, their movements choreographed perfectly in time. It's mesmerizing, three bodies moving as one.

Liza struts with the other two following behind her, her lips holding the words.

Harry feels a tightening in his gut and a pull in his cock, and he can't stifle his groan as Liza's foot extends over her head. He's a trained spy and assassin for fuck's sake — he should not be remotely arroused by this. But there's something about the eyes and the confidence he can't ignore.

He wishes he weren't on duty so he could claim what he's paid for.

Liza and the ladies finish Beyoncé's "Girls" with their hands on their hips and smiles on their lips, and Harry takes a long drink.

"Good night!" Liza cheers before the trio bows and already men are out of their seats and headed for their conquests. Dean wiggles his finger at Liza who is helped from the stage by two bouncers, and Harry watches with baited breath as she glides over to them.

Introductions are made and Liza laughs at something Knightley says — a fake giggle and Harry knows it. She lightly touches Knightley's shoulder and then Harry hears it.

"I am truly sorry, Mr. Knightley, but my nights are all reserved for the foreseeable future."

"They are? Who the fuck by?" Dean grunts, grabbing Liza's wrist.

"Oh now," Liza says calmly, removing the crushing fingers of the other man. "It's not a business practice of mine to share client information. My personal practices are being observed and the required compensation is being fully met."

"Yeah, it better fuckin' be.” Dean snarls, harshly grabbing Liza’s hand.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Knightley," Liza says. She returns her fingers to Knightley's shoulder, effectively freeing her hand from Dean’s clutch. "I'll be sure to let you know when I am available."

"You do that," Knightley says. "Don't let a minute waste, Liza Lovegood."

She nods. "If you'll excuse me, I've got a client to meet."

Harry watches her disappear down the hall with Dean hot on her heels, and he thinks it's time for another drink.

"Who the fuck are you with?" Dean asks, his voice more of a vicious snarl than anything else.

"A nice gentleman paying me more than I'm worth."

"Yeah, that's not hard to do," Dean says. Harry leans back just enough to see down the darkened hall. Dean has Liza pushed into the black wall with his hand around her throat. "If you lose us one of the best clients we're ever gonna get because you're dickin' around with some arsehole who's never gonna pay, I'll kill you with my own hands. Who's gonna take care of your sister then, 'ey?"

"It's taken care of," Liza says. She's not afraid of him even though Harry thinks she has every reason to be, and she pushes her oppressor away. "Now let me get on with my job, please."

Harry finishes off his martini as Dean stomps into the main room. A few minutes later, there's Liza with her coat strapped across her chest and her bag slung over her arm.

"Follow me," she whispers and Harry almost thinks he didn't even hear it. He does as he's told and she exhales when they're on the pavement outside. "I didn't want them to know we were leaving together. He'll find out anyway, but you deserve a little mystery, don't you think?"

Harry nods as he ushers her to the car.

"No driver tonight?" Liza asks as she climbs into the passenger seat.

"Just me, I'm afraid," Harry answers as he closes the door. Rounding the car and climbing in himself, he meets Liza's gaze.

"I like this though," Liza says. "Just you and me."

Harry doesn't answer but instead pulls a zipper bag from beneath his coat. "You'll find everything in there."

Liza carefully unzips the bag, not wanting to prematurely pop off a nail. Harry watches her flick through the stack of cash.

"This is too much," Liza says. "Way too much."

"It's for you," Harry says, pulling away from the curb. "Take it and don't worry about it."

"Oh, I'm not worried Mr. Hart," Liza says. "I simply felt it was my civic duty to inform you you've overpaid for my services, especially given that I'm not actually providing you with anything. I don't even charge someone this much to go bare."

Harry grunts, pulls the car to the curb once more and looks at the younger person sitting next to him. "Do you really let clients go bare with you?"

Liza laughs. "Of course not. That's why I don't even charge someone this much for it — because I don't even do it. I'm a cross-dressing prostitute, Mr. Hart, but I'm not stupid."

Harry sighs as he looks at his companion in the streetlight, his fingers reaching toward the red outline on her neck, five fingers and a palm. His eyes see the darker imprint on her wrist and he clenches his jaw.

He is going to kill Dean and he won't even feel remotely guilty about it.

Guiding the car back into the street, he plots all the ways he could do it. Something fast: a bullet between the eyes. Maybe he'd take it slow, a thousand cuts or the removal of every nail and every tooth.

"Mr. Hart?"

"Harry."

"Mr. Harry Hart?" Liza says. "Would you mind taking me to your place or to a hotel? Dean'll check in tonight and he won't bother my house if I'm not there."

Harry considers this. He knows Eggsy would be safe at home because the nanny watching his younger sister is actually Lancelot, newest recruit to the Kingsman agency. She is well-equipped to handle Dean or any other person who threatens her or the young girl, and she could certainly keep Eggsy safe at home. Harry's fascination for the person in the passenger seat is too much for him though, and he knows it won't sully the mission to spend one night — one sexless, platonic night — alone. It's too much to take Eggsy to his own house and Harry's always hated hotels. To a Kingsman safe house then, a small cottage on the outskirts of town.

"Right, yes," Harry finally agrees. Liza smiles and runs her lip between her teeth.

There's silence again but it's not as uncomfortable as one could see it being.

"I've got a sister to protect, you know," Eggsy says, his voice dropping ever so slightly from the tone he adopts as Liza. "That's why I gotta to what I do. If I give Dean his due, he lets her live with me."

"Where's her mother?" Harry asks, even though he already knows the answer.

"Rehabilitation center," Eggsy answers. "I'm paying for that, too."

Harry doesn't respond. Simple research is required of every mission but Harry's been following Eggsy for quite some time. The young man had possibly been up for a recommendation into the Kingsman program but Harry had hoped to spare the boy the same fate his father endured. He hadn't planned on Eggsy surviving abuse after abuse and risking his health every night for the sake of money. Money Harry and the Kingsman could easily give to help Eggsy and his family.

Harry is awash with guilt. This wouldn't be Eggsy's life had Lee survived to be with his family. Eggsy could have still grown up to enjoy makeup and lingerie, but he most likely wouldn't have the lingering eye of a notorious crime lord upon him.

"That's very admirable of you."

"Admirable, yeah," Eggsy snorts, tracing a line in the pattern of the hose on his left leg. Eggsy's quiet and Harry doesn't want to pursue the topic if it's uncomfortable.

He knows all the ins and outs of Eggsy, the statistical points, but what he doesn't know is the heart holding the lad together. It's dangerous to become familiar with a charge, but Harry can't help himself. He wants to — needs to — know Eggsy.

"How did Liza come into being?"

"The person or the name?"

"Either."

"She came to me once," Eggsy answers, running a fingernail beneath the edge of his wig. "My dad died when I was very young, and this woman came to me in a dream, I guess. She was beautiful and lovely and told me everything would be all right. That was before Dean and Daisy and all that." He smiles to himself, but Harry notices. "I became obsessed. I drew her face on everything. Then one day I felt like I would be happiest if I became her. It's so good, too. I can be the best version of myself when I'm her. I don't want to be a woman, mind you — I'm not confused about my body or the kind of sex I prefer and with whom — but wearing the wigs and makeup and heels and corsets... it just feels really freeing, like the rest of my shit life don't matter."

"I really admire you." Harry could say more but doesn't. He could tell Eggsy that his life isn't perfect but it isn't shit, but who is he, a well-educated super spy born to parents of a higher class than Eggsy who never needed nor wanted for anything? "And the name?"

"Easy," Eggsy laughs. "Liza, from My Fair Lady's Eliza, because that transformation from lowly peasant to proper lady, and Lovegood after Luna from Harry Potter. She was always true to herself no matter what anyone else thought and that is what Liza gives me.” He leans over the console towards Harry and braces his chin in his palm. “Aren’t you curious?"

“About what?"

“My real name."

“Would you honestly tell me if I asked?"

“Maybe."

“All right then. What is your real name?"

“Eggsy,” he answers. “Or Gary, really, but my friends call me Eggsy."

“Nice to meet you, Eggsy.” Harry’s gaze is sincere and Eggsy shivers. He hasn’t felt this way in a long time, maybe not ever. He can feel it in his core to trust Harry, the man who’s not once judged him or thought anything less of him because of his place in life. While he’s never felt particularly ashamed of Liza or what he does, he knows people expect him to. But here with Harry, Harry who already knows so much about him, he feels like himself.

“We’re almost there,” Harry says, “if you were wondering."

“I wasn’t,” Eggsy says. “I’m really quite happy to be here with you."

Harry’s going to have a much harder time resisting Eggsy than he’d intended.

Harry pulls the car up the driveway and into the garage and Eggsy looks around.

“This is nice,” Eggsy says.

“It’s a friend’s,” Harry answers. Not entirely untrue. He switches off the ignition and quickly crosses around the front to open the passenger door.

“Couldn’t take a prostitute back to your place? ‘Ave you got a wife and kids?"

“No,” Harry says, “nothing like that. This is to keep you safe."

Eggsy pauses a moment, looking at the older gentleman. He can’t remember the last time anyway truly kept his safety in mind or honestly put his feelings first. He could cry at the generosity but instead nods curtly. “Thank you."

“Of course,” Harry says. Merlin, the Kingsman tech wizard, has already unlocked the doors and run all the security checks on the house and has informed Harry so, and Harry pushes on the door. “Fully stocked kitchen here. Sitting room, den, dining, upstairs is two bedrooms and two baths. Do you need anything?"

“A shower might be nice,” Eggsy answers.

“Just up the stairs then,” Harry says. “You’ll find a change of clothes if you need it. There is internet and cable but all social media is blocked and your mobile phone won’t work here. If you need to contact your sister or the sitter, just let me know."

“Am I sure you’re not the person taking people like me?” Eggsy grins. “Seems awfully convenient for you."

“I kill for necessity, Eggsy, not for fun."

Eggsy’s only immediate reaction is to blink, and he quickly passes around the spy to head up the stairs. Everything is as Harry said it would be, and he feels like a new person once he emerges from the shower.

He finds Harry in the den; his coat, tie and waistcoat discarded along with his shoes, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows.

“I made tea,” Harry says without looking up from his book. Eggsy sighs, feeling rather reinvigorated post shower. He sinks to his knees in front of Harry and pulls the book from his hands.

Eggsy knows the look in his eyes — Harry's captivated by the man in front of him. Without the wig, the sparkling purple, black and gray eyeshadow, the red lips, Eggsy is just that — Eggsy. He found a T-shirt and pair of dark gray sweatpants in the closet and pulled them on, but he knows his body still has a nice shape.

"I'm not feeling very thirsty for tea," Eggsy says, running a finger along Harry's. Of course the plastic nails are gone, too. "It seems foolish, Mr. Hart, that you and I would be alone in this house, I'm paid for and you're reaping none of the benefits. I'll wear the wig, if you'd like." Sliding his fingers between Harry's, he kisses the older man's wrist, feeling the pulse quicken beneath the skin. "I'm very, very good with my mouth."

"I don't doubt that you are," Harry says, squeezing Eggsy's palm in his own so much it's almost painful to Eggsy. "But when I fuck you, it will be because your body craves it. You will need my touch to feel like a whole person again, not because you think you owe me something. You'll feel it in the tips of your fingers, your burning need for me will consume you so much you can taste it in your mouth. I am not a man who pays to fuck, even someone as enticing as you, Gary."

Harry squeezes his palm once more before swiftly extricating himself from his chair. Eggsy rocks onto his back as the other man breezes past him and up the stairs. Eggsy hears the faint click of a lock as Harry shuts the door to the master bedroom.

Harry Hart seems to be under the impression it is going to be a long time before Eggsy's body will yield to his under the promise of emotion rather than money, but Eggsy knows otherwise. His blood boils beneath his skin and he knows his cheeks and ears are blooming red. Whether Harry Hart is simply here to keep Eggsy alive or simply playing babysitter, he knows he might be saving the older man in return.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this, and I'm sorry for the delay in posting!

Harry's never taken by surprise.

That's precisely why he bolts upright and aims his watch containing a tranquilizer at the person sitting in the chair next to his bed.

"No need for that jus' yet," Eggsy says, slouching comfortably in the chair. It's early morning and Harry blinks as he reaches for his glasses, his watch forgotten for now.

"How did you get in here?"

"What kind of prat would I be if I didn't know how to pick a lock? I live in the shadier parts of town, bruv."

"What are you doing in here?"

"That's the question, innit?" Eggsy says, leaning forward in the chair. He twirls a knife between his fingers and holds up his other palm as if to tell Harry to wait. "See, I found a door behind the pantry downstairs, and behind that door was an armory full of weapons — some I couldn't even figure out. You've got loads of money, those glasses aren't normal, this entire house ain't normal. You're a ghost on the Internet and yet you exist with money and some nice things at your disposal. So what I am asking, Harry Hart — if that's your real name — is who the fuck are you?"

"Eggsy—"

"My guess is you could take me down in a second, so there's no point in me trying to hurt you. But for whatever reason, you want to keep me alive and presumably unharmed." Eggsy drapes his arm across his thigh with his wrist up and palm open. Dangling the knife above his beautifully untarnished skin, he smirks. "So please, give me some answers or I'll slit my pretty little wrist and bleed all over your pristine furniture."

"Eggsy, stop."

The knife tip presses into Eggsy's skin without breaking it.

Harry had underestimated Eggsy. Why wouldn't be the boy be resourceful and clever? His father certainly was, though Eggsy might be a bit more reckless in his approach. Harry's brain is running too fast, his inability to easily fall asleep swept away with the boy himself. He'd lain in bed unable to push the feeling of Eggsy's lips on his skin and the way the young man had looked fresh out of the shower.

Liza is beautiful, completely in charge of herself and captivating enough to capture all the attention. Eggsy is still confident and beautiful, but there's a strange softness to him. Sure, his jaw is angular and his body ripples with muscle, but Eggsy carries an innocence Liza has outgrown. He's still vulnerable.

Harry had meant what he said about fucking Eggsy, and it's taking all his iron-clad strength not to spring from sheets and pull the object of his desires back to the mattress with him. Of course the object of his desire is currently holding a knife to a perfectly untarnished wrist and Harry would hate to see a scar there.

It's nothing Kingsman technology can't erase.

He removes his glasses and tucks them under his pillow. "I am a Kingsman agent." He then proceeds to explain the organization's foundation and purpose, giving the same spiel he gives his potential candidates. "Your father was one of us, and he died saving my life."

"What?"

"It's true," Harry says. "Lee Unwin saw a grenade I didn't and he threw himself on the assailant, saving not only my life but the lives of three other agents."

"You taking the piss?"

"No," Harry says. "I was the man who told your mother. I gave you a medallion bearing our sigil." Harry holds out his hand so his signet ring glistens in the moonlight.

"Yeah, I know it," Eggsy says. "Dean took it from me a long time ago. Got the number memorized though. You've got to be shitting me." Eggsy sinks back into the chair, dropping the knife. "That makes sense."

"I'm relieved you think so."

He waits as Eggsy rubs his forehead and then sighs. "Why now? Why are you just now interested in me? You and your Kingsman could have been there my entire life to help but you're only showing up now. Why?"

"I suppose you should know everything," Harry says. He climbs from bed, pulls open the armoire, twists the second hook from the left, and presses his thumb to the scanner. "As you know, guns have been outlawed worldwide in an attempt at peace. However, there are pockets of those hoarding guns. We can only assume their intentions are not good, and we, along with other organizations, are watching across the globe. There's a cell of resistance, of course, and we think we're on the tail of one of the kingpins." Harry flicks his finger over a screen and his face glows under the light. "Fitzwilliam Knightley. You may recognize him as the man who requested your services last night." Eggys's eyes narrow as he looks at the photos and video footage flicker across the screen. "Intel supports the theory he's been running guns between the U.K. and Russia. We've got an agent working under him now."

"What does gun running have to do with me?"

Harry flicks another screen and the reports as well as photos of eight missing persons flicker across.

"Madame Marvelle," Eggsy says, noticing the face in front of his. "I saw her once last summer at the Rose and Down. She's amazing."

"Was amazing," Harry says, calmly flicking through photos. He’s committed every face and fact to memory and is only doing this for the benefit of the young man next to him. "Her body was found a month ago on a river bed in northern Wales."

"They're being murdered?"

"Five bodies so far," Harry says. "Seven drag queens and one pre-operative transgender woman have been missing."

"Fuckin' hell.” Eggsy runs his hand through his hair, leaving it quite unkept. Harry would think it… cute… under different circumstances. Hell, he still thinks it’s cute only now he doesn’t even smile as that would appear crass.

"Fitzwilliam Knightley has been at the Foxhole every night for the past week, and you, dear Liza, seem to be his next target."

"Do you know he's the one taking them?"

"Nothing has been confirmed but he has been seen with each of them within a week before their disappearances and subsequent murders."

Eggsy's fingers land on the screen just over Madame Marvelle's pictures. Harry's touched by the warmth in the gesture and he longs to comfort the other man.

"Why us?"

"We're not sure yet," Harry answers. "Our psychologists think it's possible he sees transvestites and transgender people as something abnormal or he kills over guilt for being attracted to and or having sex with transgender people and transvestites."

Eggsy sighs, his fingers tracing one beautifully painted face to another.

"I want to help."

"I'll see what we can do," Harry says. "Your expertise on the matter could be of use."

Eggsy nods, finally lifting his fingers from the screen. 

"Would you like some breakfast before I take you home?" Harry offers.

"Please," Eggsy says.

When Harry pulls his car to the curb outside Eggsy's flat, he opens the glove compartment and pulls out a small mobile phone.

"This will connect you directly to me," Harry says. "Just press the green button. If I don't answer, it'll switch you to Kingsman headquarters."

"Thank you," Eggsy says, slipping the phone in his bag. He scratches the side of his head. "Do you want to come meet Daisy? It'll be nice to have someone know she needs help if I get murdered."

"You're not going to get murdered. That's precisely why we're watching you. I will come meet Daisy if that'll help assuage your fears, though."

Eggsy nods as he opens his door and climbs from the car. He slips his key in the lock with Harry behind him and he's quiet as he enters.

"Hey, Rox," he says, seeing the young woman in the small kitchen.

"You're home early," she says with a smile. She's making breakfast and her eyebrows raise when she sees Harry. "You don't usually bring home guests."

"This is Harry," Eggsy says. "He's a friend. Harry, this is Roxy. She watches Daisy when I can't."

"Nice to meet you," Harry says, even-toned and hiding his familiarity with the woman.

“She still sleepin’?" Eggsy asks.

"Like a lamb," Roxy answers.

“Gimme a sec," Eggsy says, touching Harry's arm lightly.

Daisy's room is small but cute, full of the things she needs. She's Eggsy's greatest concern, and he wants to ensure she has a better life than he had growing up.

"Dais, baby," he says, sitting on the edge of her bed. He rubs her back gently before she rolls over and grins sleepily.

"Eggs!" She cheers, sitting up and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"How are ya, Daisy girl?"

"Good."

"There's someone I want you to meet," he says. "Is that okay?"

"Yes. Friend?"

"Yes," Eggsy answers. "His name is Harry and he's very nice."

Eggsy pauses when he hears Harry and Roxy whispering in the kitchen. They're talking a lot for two people who just met.

"Come on, Daisy girl." The conversation stops as soon as Eggsy pulls open her door, and he frowns. "Harry, this is Daisy. Daisy, can you say hello to Harry?"

Harry couldn't explain how his heart rolled at the sight of the small girl curled against Eggsy's chest, her head resting on his shoulder. It was simply a beautiful sight, and Harry knows he's in deep trouble.

"Hello, Daisy. Aren’t you precious?"

She giggles as she reaches for Harry's glasses. Laughing, he gently pulls her hand away but hands her a flower instead. Eggsy startles at its appearance but grins as Daisy erupts with laughter again and rubs the petals against her cheek.

"Daisy," Eggsy says, looking at her as she grins at him from his arms. "Would you please go find Spanner and bring her to Harry?"

Daisy's eyes widen as she nods. She reaches for the ground as Eggsy sets her down, and she toddles away quickly.

"Rox, are you one of them Kingsman too?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she answers quickly. Eggsy slaps the counter and rubs his face with his hands.

"I knew I shouldn't be able to afford you," Eggsy says. "Shit."

"He knows," Harry says. "I told him."

"Harry, you know as well as I do that is against protocol."

"It's his life, Roxy," Harry says. "I felt bending protocol wasn't unreasonable."

Roxy narrows her eyes at Harry before nodding her head. "It's your call."

Harry returns the nod in response as Eggsy slips behind her in the small kitchen and reaches the pot of coffee. Harry can't believe he's been so fucking stupid. Roxy knows. She knows he is crossing so many lines because he's developing feelings for the young man in their charge. He's fucked. He's so fucked he can't even hide his smile as Eggsy passes him a cup of piping hot coffee.

At least Roxy is discreet.

There's a tug on Harry's pant leg and he looks down to see Daisy holding a cat who's almost as big as she is. The cat's brown fur contrasts against her pale skin.

"Spanner," Eggsy says. "Daisy's cat."

"He's very lovely," Harry says, warily eying the huge feline.

"Here," Daisy says, holding the furry creature over her head. The cat doesn't fight her handling and he doesn't protest when Harry takes him. Harry hates cats but doesn't want to disappoint the beautiful little girl looking up at him or her especially attractive older brother.

"I never thought I'd see the day Harry Hart held a cat," Roxy laughs. She looks around the counter and eyes Daisy. "Come on, little one. Let's wash your hands so you can eat."

Daisy grins as Roxy leads her to the kitchen sink and lifts her up.

"I almost hope you all never catch Knightley," Eggsy says, buttering a blueberry pancake on a plastic Star Wars plate. "I quite like having you around, Rox. Best nanny we've ever had."

"I actually have very little experience," Roxy says, setting Daisy back on the ground. "So I'm very glad to hear you say that."

"Orange or apple?" Eggsy asks Daisy as she climbs into her chair.

"Apple!"

"Apple it is, Daisy girl," Eggsy says. He looks at Roxy as he opens the refrigerator. "You can go ahead and leave now if you've got somewhere to be. I can get her dressed and to school."

"I could actually use some time at headquarters," she says, untying the apron strings around her waist. "Merlin's been asking me to run through some new training exercises for recruits."

"Merlin?" Eggsy asks, a smile on his lips. "I assume that's a code name."

"It is," Harry answers. "We all have one."

"Interesting," Eggsy says. "Anyway, thanks for all your help, Rox. Glad to know you can keep us safe."

"Happy to do it," she says, and she means it. She wasn't exactly thrilled two months ago when they told her she'd be posting up as a nanny for a drag queen and his sister, but she understood her role in the mission. Not only did it give her direct access to a potential victim, it gave her and the Kingsman an ear in the business. Of course Daisy, while maybe not where she needed to be developmentally, was a lovely, precocious child, and it was hard to ignore how deeply Eggsy cared for her. Roxy liked Eggsy and Liza both, although she's only seen Liza twice over her employment. Eggsy didn't want to confuse Daisy so he usually left Liza at the club or wherever she happened to spend the night. Roxy figures it wouldn't be hard for Daisy to realize Eggsy and Liza are the same person, but that is his call to make.

"See you this evening," Roxy says, picking up her coat and bag. "See you around, Harry."

He nods curtly at her as she opens the door and vanishes into the morning light.

"This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder," Eggsy says, kissing the top of Daisy's head.

"You're handling it all with great finesse."

"Yeah well, faking finesse is part of my profession," Eggsy says, putting the syrup bottle back into the refrigerator. "And that wasn't the strangest quarter hour I've spent with a man and woman of a prestigious position." He scratches Spanner's head as Harry's still holding the fat cat against his chest. "Wasn't the most prestigious position I've ever been in either." Harry chokes on his breath as Eggsy winks at him before disappearing into his room.

Harry scratches the cat's head while Daisy smiles at him between bites of pancake. She doesn't quite look like Eggsy but Harry's seen her father so that makes sense. At least she'll have all the access to makeup and hair tips she could possibly want as she gets older with Eggsy at her beck and call.

"You're tall," she says, looking up at him. Harry just nods, feeling rather out of sorts. That's even more alarming because Harry Hart is never not in control of himself.

Eggsy emerges again from his room, dressed in his casual clothes. Harry's seen him in them before from afar, but the effect is completely different in person. A baseball cap, a collared shirt, an athletic jacket covered in gold bills, jeans and ridiculous sneakers with wings attached at the laces. Eggsy's every bit a character as Liza.

"Daisy, are you finished?" Eggsy asks, casually lifting the cat out of Harry's arm and placing it on the counter. She nods and drops her fork onto the plate. "I laid your clothes out on the bed. Will you please go put them on?"

"Yes, Eggs.” She sounds like the candied version of Eggsy, perfectly sweet and small. Swaying her head from side to side, she skips towards her room.

"I have to take her to school," Eggsy says, picking up the small pink backpack with the Star Wars logo on it. "Walk with us, yeah?"

Harry nods. He tells himself it's to keep Eggsy and Daisy safe, that they'll be fine if they're with him. He tells himself Eggsy feels better having him around and perhaps still has questions. He knows that's all bullshit though. At this point in time, he would do anything Eggsy asked of him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe I haven't updated this story in so long! Thank you for sticking around, or if you're new, thanks for joining the party! I have written this story in its entirety and hope to get it all up before summer's end. If you're into it and I haven't updated in awhile, please drop us a line and I will get on posting it! You're the best readers anyone could ever ask for, and I hope you've enjoyed it.

Harry's on the edge of the pavement and Eggsy watches the way the older man stands calm and composed. He's always composed, Eggsy's noticed, and he wonders what it takes to get Harry a little less composed. Eggsy laughs at the thought, earning a look from the monitor standing watch at the front door of Daisy's school. It’s the third time Harry’s made the journey with them but it’s no less exciting than the first. Eggsy's life could very well be in jeopardy and he can't seem to keep his brain from drifting to Harry Hart. Harry Hart wears his suits extremely well and carries himself like a man with everything important to do yet with the demeanor of a man who cannot be bothered by anything. Of course Eggsy's felt Harry's eyes on him — he's not sure if it's out of pity, curiosity, fear, attraction or maybe a mix of everything, and Eggsy hopes Harry is interested in him.

Harry turns towards him and Eggsy smiles. Harry wouldn't tell him but the smile alone makes his stomach flip.

"Eggsy, what do you normally do with your day?"

"Sleep," Eggsy answers, "until it's time to pick Daisy up. I didn't really have plans for today since last night was a departure from my normal routine."

"Right." Harry nods, considering the man looking at him with a face full of hope. "Well, we may have found a way you can help."

"On with it then," Eggsy says. "I have to be back here at three."

"We can make that happen," Harry says. A sleek black car pulls up to the curb beside them as if on cue and Harry opens the door for Eggsy. "How does a girl get a job at the club?"

"Waitresses just have to look good," Eggsy says as soon as Harry's in the car and the driver is pulling away. "I mean, they have to know how to take an order and make change if need be, but there's not much more to it than that. Dancing is harder."

"Do tell."

"You have to prove you can move," Eggsy says. "Your look has to be that much more on point and you have to be personable. It never hurts to blow the manager either."

"Oh."

"Why?"

"We were hoping to send one of our agents undercover with you."

"Just let me do it," Eggsy says. "You can tell me to do whatever you need and I'll do it."

"It's too dangerous. We can't risk another civilian life."

"Every day you let this guy walk free is a day you risk another civilian life. Even if I'm safe, my friends are not."

"You can help and let us keep you safe," Harry says. "Our agent is well equipped to get the information we need and keep himself alive by any means necessary. We need your assistance in making him passable as a queen."

"It's not easy, you know," Eggsy says. "It's not something you learn overnight."

"I know that, Eggsy. No one is questioning your dedication to the craft or your talent, but a trained agent is the best chance we have."

"What do you need?"

"Makeup, outfit, dancing," Harry says. "He's flexible, well trained in combat and physically fit so that should help. We may also need your help getting him a position."

"Money's of no object, right?"

"We can pay you for your assistance."

"No, that's not what I meant," Eggsy says. "Every good wig costs a proper bit and any outfit worth wearing is tailor made. I can say the queen just moved into town but no one will buy her credit if she doesn't look the part."

"We can get all of those things taken care of."

"Can I meet this fella?"

"We're going to the shop now," Harry says.

Eggsy's jaw hangs open as they stop in front of a tailor's store within ten minutes and the driver is there holding open the door. Beautiful suits hang on mannequins in the windows and Eggsy tries to compose himself.

"Hello, Galahad," a tall young man says as they enter the shop.

"Eggsy, this is Bors," Harry says. "He will be our newest queen."

Eggsy looks him over: tall and lean, wide eyes, thin nose, pouty lips, cheekbones most queens would kill for. This man was born to be one of them.

"He'll do," Eggsy says, shrugging his shoulders.

"Good," Harry says. "Where should we start?"

"Do you have an outfit?" Eggsy asks. "That'll take the longest to get together. I assume you have access to wigs?"

"We have plenty of well-made wigs," Harry says.

"Padding and makeup," Eggsy says, circling Bors. "The face will work." Eggsy bends easily, lifts the leg of Bors's pants and sighs. "Wax."

Bors sighs. "Who the hell are you to come in here and telling me I need to wax my legs? I know your type, fucking faggots wanting everyone to accept you."

Harry pushes an arm to Bors's chest ready to intercept but Eggsy doesn't need him to.

"So what, I'm a fucking faggot?" Eggsy spits, rearing to full height. He's still shorter than Bors but Harry can tell Bors is unsettled. "I don't need everyone to accept me because I accept me. I will not be judged by the likes of you, some prat born and raised with a silver spoon in his fuckin' mouth. You probably got this job through family connections and have never really had to work for anything in your life. I got where I am through hard work and a lot of shady shit, but I am proud of the life I've built for myself. So you can take your judgment and shove it up your arse. Do you want to do your job or not?"

Bors closes his mouth and cross his arms over his chest. "Sorry."

"Now," Eggsy says, "are we all ready to get on with it?"

It was decided Bors's transformation is best practiced at Kingsman headquarters, so Eggsy is blindfolded by Harry and led gently wherever they're going. Eggsy knows an elevator is involved, something like a bullet train and a lengthy walk through halls where the sounds and smells all change. He doesn't mind being herded around because Harry keeps on hand on his arm and the other on the small of his back.

When the blindfold is removed, Eggsy finds himself standing in front of a huge vanity stocked with makeup and wigs.

"All right," Eggsy says, looking over the selection. It's all quality makeup and the wigs are superb, too. "What's the timeline?"

"As soon as possible," Harry says. "The sooner we can get Bors with Knightley, you'll be better off."

"To get in," Eggsy says, "you'll need to make an appearance the first night and dance privately for Stick. You'll then do the first night as a serving girl. If you do well enough then, you can have the opening dance the following night. Stick won't be there tonight, so we're looking at Friday at the earliest to get you on stage."

"We don't need wax today because you'll want that as fresh as possible without the redness," Eggsy says. "We can try your face and outfits though. Can you dance?"

"Can I dance?" Bors scoffs. "Tango, waltz, foxtrot."

Eggsy bursts with laughter. "Pole dance, you idiot! You've got to pole dance. In heels! Have you ever worn heels in your life?"

"Never."

"Shoes and socks off now," Eggsy says, rifling through the boxes on the ground. He finds a black pair of Jimmy Choo pumps and puts them on the floor in front of Bors. "In you go."

Bors rolls his eyes before stepping into each shoe while Eggsy holds the toe. Bors struggles and finds himself gripping Eggsy's shoulder before straightening up.

"Now walk," Eggsy says. "It'll take you awhile to get used to them."

"Do you have everything you need?" Harry asks.

"Enough to get off the ground," Eggsy says.

"All right," Harry says. "I'm going to go check on some things and we'll be back. Bors will be able to get you anything you need."

"Thank you," Eggsy says.

"Play nice, Bors," Harry says before closing the door behind him.

It's two hours of teaching Bors to move as he should. He's too stiff and too proper, and it's not until he's downed three glasses of scotch that he can move in the heels without falling over. He also has gotten used to the idea that Eggsy doesn't want to fuck him so he doesn't mind Eggsy's hands on his hips guiding him through steps.

Bors is a secret fan of Britney Spears, so that's the angle they take. With the spy in his skivvies and heels, it's much easier to hit the movements and Eggsy's thankful for his pupil's natural agility and flexibility. He might just pass for a young queen.

Eggsy then gets Bors's hair secured beneath a cap and sets him in the chair.

"You've got a lovely bone structure," Eggsy says with his hands on his knees so he can study Bors's face before getting to work. "I think I'll shape your eyebrows first."

Bors winces every time Eggsy plucks a delicate hair from the arch above his eyes. "You do this every day?"

"Nope," Eggsy answers. "We actually glue them down, cover them with powder and then draw ours where we want them. I'm going to do that to yours too."

"Why the fuck would you pluck them then?"

"Because you called me a fucking faggot," Eggsy says, slapping Bors's cheek affectionately. 

An hour later, Eggsy is looking at a beautifully painted Bors.

"Have you given any thought to your name?"

"My name?"

"Your drag name," Eggsy says. "I don't think you'll win them over with a name like Bors."

"Oh," Bors says. "Do you have any thoughts?"

Eggsy narrows his eyes as he lines Bors's lips with a crimson liner. "You've got a very classic look. Maybe something from Jane Austen or a Brontë."

"You've read them?"

"Once again, I'm not stupid," Eggsy says patiently. "I actually read a lot." He pats a line of powder onto Bors lips. "What's your real name?"

"Charlie," Bors says.

"So you're Charlotte Crawford," Eggsy smiles. "Pretty."

"Crawford?"

"After Joan," Eggsy says, "or Cindy if you like her better."

"Charlotte Crawford," Charlie repeats. “Can I be a Lady?"

“Of course you can."

“Lady Charlotte Crawford,” Charlie repeats with a grin.

"One last brush of powder," Eggsy says. "Powder is your best friend. You'll need to apply heavily and frequently." He drops the compact into Charlie's hand. "I think we'll keep you brunette. Anything that makes you feel more comfortable will help you sell it at first." He reaches over Charlie and picks up a box of tight underwear. "Now for the tuck."

It's another half hour of Eggsy trying to explain the logistics of it all while Charlie fiddles with himself on the other side of the bathroom door.

"We can try tape if you can't get it," Eggsy says. "I thought you might find this a little less painful."

"I'll get it," Charlie says.

And another quarter of an hour later, he emerges from the bathroom with a perfect tuck in his tight panties.

"Hello, Charlotte," Eggsy smiles. "It's not too uncomfortable, right?"

"It's not great," Charlie says, "but I'll live."

"Look at what I found!" Eggsy says triumphantly, holding the package proudly between his palms. "These panties have an arse built right into them. Do you know how great this is for a first time drag queen? You're so spoiled."

It's when Eggsy steps backwards from the young spy that he really appreciates his work. The man he had met a few hours ago was tall, stoic, straight and a little stiff. Now standing before him was a beautiful queen, her hair falling in perfect auburn curls past her shoulders. Eggsy's done her makeup enough to give the illusion of arched eyebrows, perfectly shaded eyes and plump lips demanding to be kissed among other things. The corset and breast padding are simple but enough to continue the illusion, and the black silk underwear Eggsy managed Charlie into are enough of a tease until those long, toned legs take over.

"How do you feel?"

"Ladylike," Charlie answers, looking at himself in the mirror. "I can't believe this."

"Lookin' good, Bors." Eggsy says, clapping a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Give us a walk."

Bors, now as Lady Charlotte Crawford, takes a turn around the room, her gait not quite short enough and her hips not quite fluid enough. Eggsy wraps his hands around her waist from behind.

"You've got to feel weightless," Eggsy says, following Charlie around the room. "Maybe throw your centre of gravity lower. You want to embody a woman, not look like a man in women's clothes."

"I feel ridiculous in these clothes," Charlie says. 

"You look great," Eggsy says. "Fake it till you make it, right?"

A knock on the door has them both whipping around and Eggsy drops his hands to his sides.

"Bors, Eggsy?" Harry asks, stepping into the room and closing it behind him.

"That's Lady Charlotte Crawford to you," Charlie laughs, holding out a hand.

"You look stunning," Harry says, looking over his cohort. "Well done, Eggsy."

"Thank you," Eggsy says. "We're not quite there yet, but we should be soon. I was thinking it might be beneficial for Lady Charlotte to come to the club tonight."

"Why?" Charlie asks, scratching his rib cage through the corset.

"It'll help," Eggsy says. "You can meet some of the girls, watch the show, see what we do."

"That could be helpful," Harry says. "Would you be able to get her in?"

"Of course," Eggsy says. "She can be an old friend."

"Perfect," Harry says. "Thank you for all your help, Eggsy, it's about time we get you back to your sister."

"Thank you," he says. "I'll see you later, Lady Charlotte."

Charlie smiles at Eggsy, waving a perfectly manicured hand in his direction.

 

Harry arrives at The Foxhole by himself, his suit pressed and glasses projecting. Fitzwilliam Knightley is absent for now, and Harry doesn't miss the chance to enjoy Liza Lovegood's show without worrying about her.

Lady Charlotte Crawford sits at the bar, a man on either side. She laughs easily and Harry smiles. He never expects these missions to be easy yet this leg of this particular mission seems to be going extremely well.

Opal does Whitney Houston and Pippa makes a compelling Ellie Goulding. The lights dim and then there's Liza in a black sequined gown with a beehive wig. She is Amy Winehouse, and she has the attention of everyone in the room.

"For you," Amy sings, "I was a flame."

Eggsy mouths along with her, this routine well rehearsed and perfected through hours of study. There's a sadness to Liza tonight Harry's not seen before, but he quickly realizes that's part of the performance. She's helped down the stairs by a bouncer and she weaves her way through the tables, occasionally touching a cheek with a wistful finger or brushing the hair of a patron with her hand.

It's near the end of the song when she makes it to Harry's table. She takes his martini and finishes it in one swallow, earning a cheer from the guests.

"And now is the final frame," Liza sings, sitting in Harry's lap. "Love is a losing game."

Liza kisses Harry's cheek, leaving a press of red lipstick on his skin. Eggsy would never be so forward with the man but Liza can do that; it's part of her job. The music kicks into an upbeat tune and Liza makes her way back to the stage for "Rehab."

The place goes wild when she pulls the strap of her gown to reveal her body tucked into a tight white bustier with tiny silk panties — there's no padding back there — white thigh high stockings and red heels. Liza has certainly delivered tonight and it doesn't go unnoticed, not even by the ever-composed Harry. He crosses his thighs beneath the table and inhales deeply, thoughts of his mother circulating his brain in attempt to keep his blood from racing to his excited cock.

She finishes with "Valerie" to riotous applause, and Liza waves to the audience before disappearing behind the curtain. Returning to the main room a few minutes later, she wears a black silk robe and is all smiles as she heads straight towards Lady Charlotte Crawford. Grabbing Charlotte's hand, Liza leads her down the hallway and Harry watches them. Knightley was nowhere to be seen so Harry relaxes, watching as Liza pulls a laughing Charlotte along to meet the other girls. Pippa looks at Charlotte like she's a chocolate sundae and Pippa's lips are the spoon, and Harry laughs. 

Liza's feeling good tonight. Her set was perfect, the men are tipping extremely well, Fitzwilliam Knightley is nowhere to be found, and yet Harry Hart sits casually in his usual chair. She's at least going to attempt a kiss from him tonight.

"I'm going to take Charlotte to our room," Liza says. "Let her take a look around and get a feel for things."

"Oh, let me have the honor!" Pippa exclaims as she grabs Lady Charlotte's wrist. "Besides, your man is over there trying not to stare and you should take advantage of him."

Liza smiles at her friend and Lady Charlotte nods. "I'll be fine. Go on."

It's in the hips and the smile. Eggsy's so relieved Fitzwilliam Knightley is absent, Liza fades away as he walks and Harry sees it.

"How is Lady Charlotte?" Harry asks, reaching for his drink.

"Fitting in really well," Eggsy says. "Those leather leggings look amazing on her arse."

Harry chuckles and shakes his head. "You've truly done a work of magic. How you manage to get along with everybody is beyond me."

"It's a skill," Eggsy says. "It helps when you know how to give people what they want."

He drops his hand to Harry's, and the older man doesn't pull away. Instead he looks at the smaller hand in his own, curling his thumb around Eggsy's knuckles.

"What do you want, Harry Hart?"

Harry finishes his drink, draining it to fill his nerves. "I want to take you home, Eggsy," he says, meeting Eggsy's gaze. "I want to take you home and keep you 'til morning. Would you want that?"

"Yes, Harry Hart." Eggsy says, unable to keep the smile from his lips. "I want that very much."


	5. Chapter 5

Eggsy's heart hammers between his ribs. He can't remember the last time spending the night with someone made him giddy, nor could he remember feeling like he meant more than a means to an end.

Sex was never commonplace, but it usually wasn't great for him. He could act like he was enjoying it, like his client was the best lover in the world, and on the rare occasion he might actually get off. But tonight with Harry Hart... To think Harry Hart was actually interested in him, that Harry Hart wanted him and that Harry Hart was going fuck him senseless... He feels that ache Harry told him he would.

Was he in love with Harry Hart so soon?

Did Eggsy even know what love was?

He decides it doesn't matter. He's going to enjoy himself with the man he's at least developed an infatuation for, and he's willing to pull out all the tricks Harry Hart desires.

He's a bit disappointed when they head out of town and Eggsy soon recognizes the roads they're taking. It's not Harry's personal house but the safe house they pull into, and Eggsy sighs.

"Do you have any idea the effect that noise has on me?"

Eggsy's caught off guard by that and he's looking at Harry's lips. Frozen by the fantasy of how it would be to kiss Harry Hart, Eggsy barely realizes he's being pulled from the car.

He needn't fantasize for long — Harry Hart is there in front of him, gazing at him, one hand on his hip and the other on his cheek. Eggsy doesn't know who's moving first but Harry Hart's lips are on his own and he's mewling. Since when does he mewl?

Harry has been in the service of denying himself many things for many years, but he relinquishes his commitment the longer he's around Eggsy. Eggsy is sweet and rightly tastes so, and Harry can't help but press his erection against Eggsy's abdomen. He draws his lips down Eggsy's jaw and across his neck, and Eggsy gasps. He's not usually showered with kisses.

"Are you going to fuck me, Harry Hart?" Eggsy's head hangs backwards, his eyes closed and throat exposed. He can't open his eyes because he doesn't want wake up from this dream.

"All in good time," Harry answers gruffly. The younger man's chest rises and falls rapidly, and Harry can't believe he's getting this reaction.

"In good time," Eggsy repeats, his breath ruffling Harry's hair.

"Why? Do we need to arrange payment first?"

Eggsy's instinctively curls his fingers into claws around Harry's arms and pushes him away. "No! God, no. Is that what this is to you?"

Of course Eggsy would be falling for someone who sees him for his profession, not someone who is actually interested in him.

"No, Eggsy," Harry says. "That's not what this is."

"No?” Eggsy whispers because that’s all he can manage.

"To be truthful," Harry says, taking the chance to run his fingers through the tuft of hair on Eggsy's head. "I've wanted you from the first moment I saw you at The Foxhole. That was lust, of course, but the more time I spend with you, the more I desire to be with you." Harry closes his eyes for a brief moment, willing himself to continue. "It is in poor form for me to be involved with you, someone I am to protect, so I've pushed aside my personal feelings. However, I am afraid I can resist you no longer."

Is Eggsy breathing? He's not sure himself but he feels a rush of anticipation through his every nerve. This is happening, and he’s so ready. He glazes his finger tips over Harry's chin, skin now stained with Eggsy's red lipstick.

"But we can slow down if you would rather," Harry says. "You can sleep in the guest bedroom and I'll take you to dinner sometime after we've apprehended Knightley."

"No," Eggsy says, pulling on Harry's collar so Eggsy's back is against the car and Harry's chest presses against his. "I don't want to wait."

"I was hoping you would say that," Harry purrs, his grip tightening momentarily on the younger man. Eggsy mewls again as Harry bites his neck, and Eggsy's grateful for the support of the car behind him or else he would surely slump to the floor. He laces his fingers beneath Harry's tie and loosens the knot, earning a moan from the older man.

"Inside, Eggsy."

Eggsy nods as he turns around, slipping his fingers in the hem of his underwear. Shocked when he hears Harry chuckle, he spins to face Harry.

"I meant inside the house, Eggsy," Harry says, "although I appreciate your enthusiasm."

"Right, 'course.” Eggsy laughs. He should probably feel embarrassed but doesn’t because he’s been snogged by Harry Hart.

Harry leads Eggsy inside, stopping to kiss him every few steps. Coats are left on the tile of the kitchen and Liza's wig ends up discarded in the hall. Normally Eggsy would never be so careless with his hair but right now Harry is too distracting.

The sofa catches them first, Harry falling in a heap on the cushion only to have   
Eggsy in his lap. Harry fidgets with the string of the corset, wanting to feel Eggsy and not the padded breasts he’s wearing. They're rubbing against each other, one hard cock on another through layers of cotton, satin and wool. Eggsy tastes the sweat and soap on Harry's neck and then there's a buzzing against his thigh.

"Is that a rocket it your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" Eggsy purrs. Harry's fingers press into his ass and Eggsy's never been held with such gentle passion.

"Let it go," Harry says, finally loosening the knot between Eggsy's shoulder blades. "It's not important."

Eggsy can easily comply with Harry's command, pulling Harry's ear lobe between his teeth. It isn't long before the vibrating resumes and Eggsy sighs.

"What if it's work?"

"I can have one night to enjoy myself," Harry says, resting his forehead against Eggsy's chin. "To enjoy you." Harry bites Eggsy's chin gently. He looks up to the younger man, wrapping his arms around Eggsy's waist. "I intend to do just that."

Eggsy smiles as he kisses Harry. Forget the way Harry's got Eggsy in his clutch or the way the wool blend of his suit rubs Eggsy's skin. Forget the softness of Harry's hair and the strength of his chest. Harry's lips were everything.

"HARRY HART."

Eggsy startles, almost falling off Harry's lap if not for the strength of his thighs and Harry's quick reflexes.

"HARRY HART." The voice repeats, seemingly coming from every direction. Eggsy detects a hint of a Scottish accent and realizes it must belong to the agent named Merlin. "If you insist on fucking someone you're supposed to be protecting, you could at least take him to a hotel and not a house wired for communications."

"Fucking hell, Merlin," Harry says, rubbing his forehead. "Have you been listening the whole time?"

"Not exactly, but that's unimportant." Merlin says. "Knightley's on the move. We need you to come in immediately."

"What about Gareth?" Harry asks.

"Too far under to blow it now," Merlin says. "We need you to put Mr. Unwin in the car and get here."

"Merlin."

"HARRY, IT IS YOUR DU—"

"It's fine!" Eggsy yells, straightening Harry’s collar. "He's on his way."

"Give us a few minutes," Harry says, letting his head fall to Eggsy's shoulder. "You'll know when the car leaves."

Eggsy waits a few seconds before speaking, hoping his lover's cohorts are not actively spying. "The sooner you catch him, the sooner we can have our night of happiness. So go get 'im and we will have a night you will never forget."

"I've been hoping for more than a night," Harry confesses, tightening his grip around Eggsy's middle.

Eggsy chuckles before pressing his lips to Harry's once more. "I would be okay with that."

Harry stands with Eggsy still wrapped around his waist and Eggsy locks his ankles together at the small of Harry's back.

"Just wait," Harry says.

"Eagerly," Eggsy says, running his fingers through Harry's hair. They kiss again until Eggsy drops his legs and Harry lightly sets his feet on the ground. Eggsy knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself if he were to be pressed against Harry any longer.

 

The intelligence was good but the timing was bad. Fitzwilliam Knightley was well within the Russian tundra and untraceable.

Harry now nurses a vodka martini from his usual booth in the corner of The Foxhole. Opal struts on stage, commanding everyone's attention but his. Instead Harry watches Fitzwilliam Knightley ogle every queen who walks by his table.

"Would you like something else?" Lady Charlotte Crawford asks. Eggsy really outdid himself with Lady Charlotte's look tonight — sparkling gold eyelids, perfect brows, deep red lips and smooth legs tucked into black hose.

Harry rolls his eyes. "You're looking suspicious."

Lady Charlotte bends even lower so her face is inches from Harry's. "I've talked to every other table twice as much as I've talked to you.” The words are sharp as she pulls Harry's tie in a way that might look flirtatious to wandering eyes. “You’re the one who looks suspicious."

“Another martini then,” Harry says, finishing off the one in his hand.

“Coming right up,” Lady Charlotte says with a wink.

After a second drink is dropped off at his table, Harry watches his newest agent do his job extremely well. Lady Charlotte Crawford leans over Knightley's table, giving the man in question a splendid view of her long legs and tight arse. She laughs at everything he says and Harry hopes tonight is the night Knightley will take home the club's newest queen.

The music queues up and the curtain opens on the stage. There's Liza Lovegood, stunning and strutting. Her set is fabulous as ever, and Harry watches eagerly as she takes the microphone from the bouncer.

"How is everyone this evening?" she asks, twirling casually around the pole. She laughs like she has a secret only she knows, and Harry's captivated by her smile. "Have you all met my dear sister, Lady Charlotte Crawford?" There's a collective cheer from the crowd as Lady Charlotte laughs, her hand against her breast. "Isn't she just gorgeous?"

Liza's loving the attention as the crowd cheers for her. This is her stage and she's owning it, not to mention the beautiful man who sits at the back of the room, shining with a smile.

"Would you like to see her dance?" Liza asks just before a seductive chuckle escapes her lips. Upon the crowd's raucous cheer, Liza holds her hand out as Lady Charlotte is led to the stage. Liza kisses Lady Charlotte's cheek and slides her headset around the taller girl's head. "You boys be nice." Liza dangles off Lady Charlotte's arm before turning back to the audience. "Or don't. She likes it rough."

There's a cheer from the audience as Liza saunters off stage and Britney Spears's "Gimme More" pops over the speakers.

Harry smiles as Liza Lovegood sashays towards the table in the corner. Harry knows he shouldn't but he opens his arms anyway and welcomes the now familiar weight of Eggsy's body in his lap.

"You're spectacular," Harry says. "Truly."

Eggsy smiles. It's easy for Harry to spot the differences now between Liza and Eggsy, and this is all Eggsy.

"Thank you, Harry Hart." Eggsy says, gently twisting Harry's lapel between his fingers. "I had reason to do my very best."

Harry locks his fingers around Eggsy's hips. He could look at the young man all night long and never lose interest. Liza is stunning and Eggsy is beautiful, but there's more to it than that. Eggsy is so many things contained within one body, he's brave, compassionate and passionate, strong, creative and talented. Harry had been around world leaders, esteemed dignitaries, royalty, Hollywood elite and astonishing performers but Eggsy outshone them all. Harry sighs, staring at Eggsy's lips.

This is incredibly dangerous territory.

Eggsy doesn't think Harry will stop him so he presses his lips to Harry's, tentatively waiting for an easy dismissal. When it doesn't come, he relaxes, dragging Harry's bottom lip between his his teeth. Eggsy's always in control when he's with a client, even if he's being submissive, but with Harry, he's unsure. Nerves flush his body, burning hot beneath his skin. Always so confident, his admiration and adoration for Harry leaves him shaking.

Only the sound of applause and cheers pull Eggsy away, and Lady Charlotte is beaming on stage.

"Will Lady Charlotte be able to do her job?" Eggsy asks, his head close to Harry's ear.

"I certainly hope so," Harry says. "I am quite ready to be able to take you home and keep you there."

Eggsy smiles as he leans into Harry, resting his cheek against the older man's chest. He doesn't remember ever being this happy to simply be.

"Where the fuck did he go?" Charlie snarls, losing everything Liza had taught him about feminine wiles. Eggsy and Harry's heads whip towards the table where Knightley had been to find it vacant except for an ash tray and drained cup.

"I don't know," Harry offers, swallowing hard. He'd gotten so lost in Eggsy he had forgotten about the task at hand.

Eggsy can feel the shift, clamoring off Harry's lap and scanning the room. "I'll check with the girls."

"I can't believe you, Harry Hart," Charlie hisses. "You were supposed to be watching him and not feeling up Eggsy on the sidelines. Dammit, man!"

"Charles," Harry says briefly as he stands. "It was also your duty to be the one going home with him. We have both failed tonight. You'll do well to remember it."

Harry actually felt wracked with guilt, but he wouldn't let Charlie know that.

Charlie sighs, a hand resting on his leather-clad hip. "What are we going to do now?"

"He's left with one of the girls," Merlin says in their ears.

"Who was it?" Harry asks. It's about that time Eggsy streams from the hall and grabs Harry's hand.

"We have to find him."

"Why? What's wrong, Eggsy?"

"He's taken Pippa."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One instance of non-con occurs in this chapter, but it happens outside of the narrative and we see the aftermath.

"You're not listening to me!" Eggsy says, running his hands over his hair.

"I'll go," Charlie says. "Eggsy can dress me up again and I'll go."

"It is too risky. Without an invitation, he'll suspect,” Merlin counters Charlie.

"We could just let Gareth loose," Harry says. "He's close enough now he could blow his cover and still make it out while accomplishing the mission."

The three spies continue to offer ideas and bicker over the possible results until Eggsy whistles through his teeth. "Shut the fuck up, all of you!"

The other three men pause momentarily, Charlie's mouth still hanging open.

"We have to get to Pippa and we have to do it today."

"She's a lovely girl, really," Charlie says, "and we'll save her if we can but she is not the main priority right now."

"Her name is really Ryan and he is HIV positive. Without his medicine, he could turn for the worse really quickly. Something like a cold could turn into pneumonia which would kill him. Even if Knightley doesn't fuck him and filet him, he could be dead soon. He's my oldest friend. I can't let that happen."

"What kind of medications is he taking?" Merlin asks, sliding his finger across the screen of his electronic tablet. Eggsy recites the list of prescriptions he's memorized in case of an emergency. Merlin nods. "Well gentlemen, I'll make sure we have everything Ryan needs when he joins us and you come up with a plan. The sooner the better."

Eggsy stares at Harry and Charlie, waiting for them to say something.

It is agreed Charlie will accompany Eggsy at the club tonight with the hope Knightley is there, and Charlie will do everything but fuck him in the booth to ensure he's going home with Knightley. Eggsy will be brought back to the compound so he can watch the proceedings in hope that Pippa is rescued in mostly good health.

Harry drops Eggsy off at his flat just in time for Daisy to wake, and Eggsy cherishes his morning spent with her. She's as giggly as ever, stopping between bites to pet Spanner's head.

He walks her slowly to class and holds her longer than he should. He'll have Jamal pick her up, and he hopes Roxy will still come tonight. He has every intention of making it home, but he's not entirely sure he will.

Eggsy showers, leaving his skin smarting and pink. Shrugging on the silk robe he reserves for home, he begins his work. First the eyebrows and hair, then the eyes complete with glitter powder, to the foundation and contours of his face, and finishing off with his newly defined brows and lips. It's a classic look of Liza's, but it's perfect and sure to accomplish his goal. He affixes his favorite brunette wig and takes a deep breath. Eggsy's never been one to attempt covert missions, but he's always been a very convincing actor.

He removes the lingerie set from the back of his closet — a sexy black number he'd been hoping to share with someone special but a gun-running kingpin will have to do. Eggsy tucks and cinches, primps and pins, curls and powders.

Liza Lovegood is the best she's ever looked, and Fitzwilliam Knightley is sure to be intrigued. He's thinks himself a winner, and Liza is the prize.

She takes her bag containing her makeup, an extra change of clothes for Liza and an outfit for Eggsy. She leaves the flat for the last time with a deep breath as the lock slides into place.

The taxi pulls swiftly to the curb and Liza gives the address she'd seen at the Kingsman compound. The drive doesn't take as long as she would have liked it to, but she steels her nerves as the cabbie opens the door.

"Thank you," she says, slipping the payment into his hands as she stares at the house before her, cool gray stone with a black door, looming.

Liza Lovegood saunters up to the door, noticing the camera already focused on her. She presses a red-tipped finger to the bell and waits for a stately butler to open the door.

"May I help you?"

"Is this the Knightley residence? My name is Liza Lovegood and Mr. Knightley requested my presence as soon as I became available."

The butler looks Liza over, long and lean in black pumps, and he smirks. "Of course. Come in, Miss Lovegood."

"Oh, I was hoping Fitzwilliam would do that," she says with a wink, her tongue lingering against her top teeth. After seeing the Kingsman compound, she's unimpressed by the foyer of the mansion.

"Follow me."

He leads her up an elegant staircase and down a hall, the third door of which is shut when the others are open. Liza remembers that as the butler leads her to a large room painted a pale blue and full of squishy sofas.

"Mr. Knightley will be with you momentarily. Feel free to get yourself a drink." He gestures towards a bar cart as he closes the door behind him.

Liza doesn't drink on the job but knows it would be in poor form to ignore the hospitality of her host, so she pours three parts cranberry, one part vodka into a glass and swirls it around before taking a sip.

She walks around the room, looking at the spines of books and brushing her finger over over the petal of a lily. Everything is pristine and nothing looks sinister. Of course it wouldn't though, would it?

Liza resolves to lounge on the sofa, one ankle crossed precisely over the other and an elbow resting on the arm of the chair, poised with her drink. To a bystander, she would look utterly relaxed; to one who knew, it was a well practiced pose.

She gazes at the ceiling, studying the ornate pattern in the tin tiles. Liza bores of sitting listlessly, so she stands to survey the surroundings of the area. Currently looking over the back of the house, a balcony joins all of the rooms together and there's a staircase on either end leading to the green grass.

Liza notices the door open in the reflection of the glass pane but continues to stare out the window.

"What do you think of my grounds?" Fitzwilliam Knightley asks, closing the door behind him again.

"Stunning," Liza answers. "Really beautiful. What is it you do, Mr. Knightley, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Banking, Liza," he says. "I was thrilled to hear you were here. I wasn't expecting you."

"I know," Liza says, confidently turning from the window towards her suitor. She takes a sip of her drink once more, seductively releasing her lips with a simple pop. "I knew you wanted my services as soon as I was available, and I found myself free of plans." Liza takes another sip of her drink, keeping the chilled liquid in her mouth. Leaving the cup on the bar cart, Liza slides her fingers in the lapels of his suit. She presses her lips to his, easily finding his open and the vodka cranberry flowing between them.

"You're worth every penny," Fitzwilliam says, his hands settling over her ass. Liza knows better than to flinch as much as she wants to, but she slides her hands to the back of his hair.

"Worth more than that," she says, pressing their fronts completely together and feeling his erection against her hip. "Let me spoil you, Mr. Knightley."

"Fuck, yes."

Liza grins as she pushes him towards the sofa.

 

Harry runs his hands through his hair, feeling rather anxious. Charlie is well trained and willing, but it may not be enough. Will Eggsy ever forgive him if Ryan is lost on a technicality?

He reaches for his signet ring in the corner of the sink but frowns when his fingers come up empty. It must have fallen off somewhere which is odd; he'll simply have to stop and pick up another.

He's on his way to the situation room to meet with Merlin and Bors when the call comes.

"Harry.” 

The use of his real name instead of his Kingsman name already has him on edge.

"Harry, are you there?” Roxy asks softly. She’s been trained to remain calm in dire situations.

"Yes, what is it, Roxy?"

"Eggsy's not here," she says. "He asked Jamal to pick up Daisy from school and he left a note asking if I could make sure she was taken care of."

"Where has he gone?” Harry rasps.

"I think he must have gone to Knightley himself. His best Liza stuff is missing."

"Shit." Harry thinks. Of course Eggsy's gone after Knightley. The selfish, stupid, brave, charismatic young man. "Roxy, stay with Daisy. I'll keep you informed."

Harry sprints down the hallway, already calling for the helicopter. He stops by the armory for a few more additions and dashes towards headquarters.

"Merlin, I'm taking off," he says, typing in security codes to get the information he needs. "Eggsy's gone to Knightley himself. We have to get them out of there."

"I'll come with you. Bors!"

It's a quick exchange for the three men to board the helicopter, Merlin taking the seat behind the controls. They're off and landing in the backyard of Knightley's estate, only to find themselves surrounded by security guards armed with tasers. Harry knows they have guns tucked away somewhere.

"Lay down your weapons and come peacefully," Merlin says over the loudspeaker. Harry's already sprinting towards them.

"Like that's going to happen," Bors laughs, aiming his tranq gun and swiftly taking out the four guards in quick succession. He hops from the helicopter and begins securing them all together on the lawn.

 

Liza claws at Knightley's shirt, effectively ripping it and sending buttons everywhere as she continues rocking her hips into his. Knightley is ravenous for her, uselessly scrabbling to touch her, but Liza artfully bound his wrists to the heavy iron lamp next to the couch with his tie. Liza tongues his neck as she unfastens his belt.

"Is you cock as impressive as your kiss?" Liza asks, unzipping his pants. Liza could feel it against her and she wasn't impressed, but she knew better than to comment on it. She makes quick work of his briefs and trousers, leaving them around his ankles. "Thank you for being such a willing participant, Mr. Knightley."

Liza kisses his cheek as she presses her hand to his neck. Knightley shouts as the electric shock runs through his body, leaving him incapacitated.

She takes the time to tie his shoelaces together; every little bit helps. Draping a blanket across him, she smirks and picks up her bag. That was too easy.

She quietly walks out into the hallway only to find the butler in her path. "He's just had a very rewarding experience, but he said you would show me to the bathroom. Would you mind?"

The butler looks over her shoulder to see Knightley passed out on the couch.

"I'm very good at my job."

"Indeed," he says. "Follow me."

Liza knows this isn't going to work so he does the only thing imaginable and grabs a vase, smashing it over the butler's head. Fortunate for her, the metal vase doesn't shatter but the butler crumples and Eggsy drags him into the nearest room, pulling him into the closet and propping a chair beneath the knob. Not having the slightest idea where Pippa might be in the compound, Liza dials her cell phone with no luck.

The one room with the closed door is locked and Liza figures there must be something important. She pulls the tools from her coat pocket and quickly picks it.

“Pippa!” she whispers upon seeing her friend laying lifeless on the bed. Pippa's naked and bleeding, dried blood already staining her skin. Liza checks for a pulse which causes Pippa to stir. She screams at the form standing over her.

"Babe, it's me! It's me, Eggsy!" Liza says, holding her friend's hand. "We've got to go. We have to get out of here now. Can you walk?"

Pippa shakes her head, new tears running down her face. "Leave me to die."

"Not today," Liza says, whipping off her coat. She forces the garment onto Fuschia despite many a weary protest and kicks off her heels. "Be as quiet as possible. We're going to have to make a run for it."

"How?"

Liza slides her arms beneath her friend and lifts. She always was too broad and too muscular to be a true lady but she's thankful for the muscle now.

The run is fast, but only for the adrenaline pumping through Eggsy's veins. Odd sounds reach his ears, something like giant wings, but Eggsy's only goal is to get out into the big yard. He'll figure out the rest once he's out of the house.

"Fuckin' shit!" He gasps as he sees the helicopter on the lawn and the two men wrangling security guards in the yard. He takes the steps quickly and carefully, his friend still resting in his arms.

"Eggsy, you son of a bitch," Bors says, taking Pippa from him. Bors can bear the load to the helicopter which is nice because Eggsy wants nothing more than to kiss the man who came to save him.

Harry feels Eggsy before he sees him. That brave, beautiful, foolish man currently dressed as a woman is racing down the stairs with another human against his chest, a look of sheer determination and will on his face. Yes, Harry can easily spot the difference between Liza and his Eggsy, and he's never been more in love.

Harry hits another guard chasing Eggsy with a tranquilizer and the man rolls down the stairs; he'll have quite a few bruises when he wakes up. Bors is there, too, taking Pippa from Eggsy and running towards the helicopter while Eggsy sprints towards Harry.

"You came for me."

It's not a question or an exclamation, simply a statement which may say more about Eggsy than three other significant words might.

"How did you get out?"

Eggsy holds up his left hand where he is wearing Harry's Kingsman signet on his ring finger. "Borrowed it. Thought it could come in handy. Knightley's passed out upstairs, as is the butler."

Damn, Harry could kiss Eggsy. So he does.

Eggsy melts beneath his lips, both of them too lost in each other to hear the shouts and Harry moves just slowly enough. Eggsy staggers against him, blood splattering across the older man’s coat. Eggsy’s face pales but Harry remains vigilant.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-Con/Rape happens outside of this part but is mentioned.
> 
> In other news... sex ahead! Finally.

Harry pushes Eggsy behind him and takes lethal aim at Knightley, one bullet full of tranquilizer hitting the asshole in the neck. He tumbles down a few stairs before Charlie's there with handcuffs.

"He shot you," Eggsy says as Harry turns around. He presses his hands against Harry's chest, finding every fiber exactly in place and no blood. "The bullet went right across my arm and into your chest."

"Indeed it did, Eggsy," Harry says, bracing the younger man's elbows. His eyes graze the younger man, checking for more wounds. "The suit is bulletproof. Your arm, my darling."

Eggsy looks at his bicep which is bleeding profusely and sighs. "It actually stings like a motherfucker, but I'll be all right."

"Were you hurt otherwise?" Harry asks, cradling Eggsy's cheek. "I hate to admit I was worried sick over you."

"No need to fret over me," Eggsy says. "I'm quick on my feet."

"You two lovebirds going to stand around while we clean up or are you going to make yourselves useful?" Merlin asks over Harry's ear piece.

“Pippa will be looking for you," Harry says gently, not really wanting to let Eggsy out of his embrace but knowing Merlin is right. There's work to be done. He loosens his tie and wraps it around Eggsy's arm. "Merlin will get that fixed up until we can get you seen by a proper doctor."

Eggsy nods. He's feeling too many things, and quite frankly he's happy he left his heels upstairs earlier. There's too much adrenaline from his plot to rescue his friend, too much excitement over seeing Harry and of course there's the shock of being shot. Sort of. "I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Definitely," Harry says.

While on the helicopter, Merlin begins the testing and examinations of Pippa, taking stock of every injury and how to best treat it. The few hours she had spent with Mr. Knightley were definitely not pleasant ones, and it would take quite some time for her to heal. She'd passed out again as soon as Bors delivered her, but Merlin thought that might be for the best in her current state.

"She's stable," Merlin says. "We'll do our best to prevent infection and she should recover. We have psychiatrists on staff who will work with her on that end as well."

He smiles assuredly at Eggsy who vacantly holds Pippa's bloodied finger tips.

"It'll be very painful for awhile," Merlin says. "We'll have to be gentle."

Studying the lines of Merlin's face, Eggsy sighs. "Thank you, for everything."

"Of course," Merlin says, adding a syringe of something into the IV he's already started. "Something to ease the pain."

The trip back to the compound seems much faster, but maybe because Eggsy is tucked beneath Harry's arm. Bors and the agent known as Gareth watch Knightley, his employees left behind to be dealt with by the police.

The helicopter lands and Eggsy's grins. Standing at the edge of the landing pad is Roxy with Daisy in her arms.

"Daisy girl!" He says, gently taking her from Roxy. He kisses her cheek and she giggles, reaching for a curl of his wig.

"Eggs's pretty," she says, smiling at him.

"I'll teach you all about it when you're older," he says, hugging her tightly again. He reaches for Roxy's hand and gives its a squeeze. "Thank you so much."

She nods at him before checking on her comrades.

Harry leaves Eggsy in the capable hands of Merlin and the medical staff while he files his reports. Pipia wakes with Eggsy by her side, and she cries to have her friend with her. It's three broken ribs, a fractured cheek bone, two broken fingers and many, many cuts and bruises along with anal fissures.

“Ryan will be fine," Merlin says to Harry as they watch the two young men together through the camera footage. "It'll be hard but he'll recover."

"Are you seeing to his care personally?" Harry asks.

"I am," Merlin says. "It feels like my duty. Does that surprise you?"

"Not at all," Harry says. "He couldn't ask for a better companion in this." Clapping a hand on Merlin's shoulder, Harry smiles.

 

"Eggsy, I'm so glad you're all right," Roxy says, pulling him into a hug. "I was so worried."

"Thank you for taking care of Daisy," he says, "and for everything else."

"Of course," Roxy says. "I'll see you in the morning, right?"

Eggsy nods. "I certainly hope so."

He opens the door to the bedroom he's just been shown to, and a certain scent overwhelms him. It's Harry. Everywhere he turns is Harry.

Daisy was tucked happily in the next room over, Roxy even being so kind as to bring her beloved blanket and stuffed bear. Eggsy had seen her to sleep and decided it was best to leave her in peace.

Now he stands in Harry's room. It's spotless, not a thing out of place. There are a few glass frames containing butterflies and a cozy blanket sits on the edge of the bed. Eggsy makes use of the attached bathroom, standing under the steaming water for much longer than he should. The makeup is completely gone from his face, and he studies himself in front of the mirror, completely bare except for the bandage around his arm.

Is this who he was supposed to be?

Eggsy dresses in a pair of linen pants and white shirt, climbing into the bed. He can tell which side is Harry's because it smells so much like him so he rolls over to the other one.

It feels too good to lie down and Eggsy feels himself finally relax, stretching out in the warmth of the bed and wrapped in the scent of Harry.

Some hours later, Eggsy nuzzles into that same scent and opens his eyes. The bed is still empty beside him, but the chair is not. Harry's asleep, still in his dress shirt and trousers. Eggsy means to slip from the bed but Harry's eyes are suddenly on him.

"Come to bed," Eggsy says softly. "You don't have to keep your distance."

"I didn't want to startle you," Harry says, stretching his legs and arms. He rubs his neck as he yawns, and Eggsy beams.

"There's a lot more you could do to startle me," Eggsy says. He slinks between the sheets until he's on Harry's side, holding out his hand. "Come to bed, Harry."

Harry stands slowly, and Eggsy's more awake now than he had been. Harry's so tall and lean and beautiful, and Eggsy feels safe enough for the first time in a long time to enjoy the moment. Eggsy rises to his knees, reaching for the button at Harry's collar. It's unspoken, but Eggsy feels like he's glowing; his skin is too hot and his lips part. He presses his lips to Harry's neck, flicking open the button and tracing the skin with his tongue. Harry exhales loudly, his hands frozen at his sides.

"Eggsy," he breathes. "Eggsy, I don't want you to do this because you think you should."

Eggsy lifts his head towards Harry, licking his lips. "Harry, I am doing this because I want to." Taking Harry's hand, Eggsy guides their fingers between his legs. "I want you so fucking much."

"Yes, Eggsy."

Harry can appreciate Eggsy deftly but quickly flicking open each button of his shirt instead of ripping it because he's too consumed with his lover. Eggsy is like something once had but since lost, only now he's in Harry's arms. Eggsy loosens Harry's belt while Harry shrugs off his shirt and tosses his glasses on the nightstand. Eggsy's T-shirt is whipped over his head and Harry stops. His fingers lightly brush the ink in Eggsy chest, the Kingsman logo in white spread across his left ribs.

"I told you I knew it," Eggsy says. Harry can't help but stoop to press his lips to the raised skin, wrapping his arms around Eggsy's hips. Eggsy laughs as Harry lifts him effortlessly and Eggsy ends up on his back. Harry pulls his undershirt over his head before ripping the pants from Eggsy's body. He sighs at the stunning sight of Eggsy's naked form, all tone and absolutely no hair.

Eggsy sits up, reaching for Harry's pants. He tugs them along with Harry’s briefs down and Harry kicks them aside.

"Fucking hell, Harry Hart," Eggsy says. He takes Harry's hands and pulls him down, covering his own body. "You're beautiful."

Harry smiles, letting his weight settle over Eggsy. He brushes Eggsy's hair with his fingers before tracing his creek with his thumb. Eggsy wraps his arms around the older man, feeling the firm skin beneath his fingers. Harry kisses with the heat of a thousand suns, but Eggsy knows exactly what he's doing. Hips rock against hips, two cocks nestled between warm bodies.

Usually the one to see to the needs of his partner, Eggsy gasps when Harry moves down his body with kisses. His fingers wind in the locks of Harry's hair, his breath quickening as Harry nuzzles Eggsy's thigh.

"Harry Hart," he sighs. A chuckle echoes through the room as Harry presses a kiss against Eggsy's bollocks, and then Eggsy's shoulders lurch from the mattress as Harry's lips press gently against his cock.

"Do you give or take?" Harry asks, his question startling Eggsy. He licks his lips and slicks his finger with spit as he looks at the young man stretched out and wanting before him.

"Whatever you like," Eggsy answers truthfully, smiling serenely. "Part of the trade, really."

"What do you like?" Harry asks, circling Eggsy's opening with his finger.

"Both," Eggsy answers, his fingers gripping the sheets. "Suppose taking's more enjoyable for me though."

"Give, I shall," Harry says, slipping his finger slowly past his rim. Eggsy pants, having done this so many times but never remembering it feeling quite like this. He'd never really known how it felt to have his needs met, to slowly come undone by the work of another, and he whines when he doesn't get to know now. The finger is suddenly gone and Eggsy's cock is harder than ever.

"Roll over," Harry says, slipping from between Eggsy's legs. Eggsy catches his eyes, and the heat behind them makes his stomach churn. "I want to taste you."

Eggsy's prepared for this. He had spent an eternity under the hot water, making sure every orafice is perfectly clean. He rolls onto his stomach and pushes himself onto his knees and palms.

"You're lovely, Eggsy," Harry says, running his hand along Eggsy's spine which makes every muscle in the young man's back twitch. A kiss is left at the nape of Eggsy's neck, followed by one down every knob of his vertebrae.

A small cry escapes Eggsy's lips as his hands tighten in the sheets; Harry's left a small but wet kiss just there, palms spread wide across Eggsy's cheeks. Harry smiles as he licks Eggsy's skin, his delight in the taste rippling through his body and reverberating in his cock. Eggsy mewls as Harry's tongue laps rhythmically at his center, igniting every nerve. Panting, Eggsy's arms shake as Harry slips a hand to his cock, gently pumping and squeezing.

It's over for Eggsy then, his orgasm seemingly splitting him into a thousand tiny pieces. He feels the shockwaves coursing through him and isn’t sure how he’s now on his side.

There's no evidence of his release when he opens his eyes, but Harry's tossing Eggsy's forgotten shirt towards the bathroom.

"I hate having to change the sheets," Harry says. "Especially at my age when I usually want to just go to sleep afterwards."

"At your age," Eggsy laughs, pulling his knees to his chest. He doesn't remember ever feeling so much like a lightning bolt inside a rain cloud, like one little spark could have him scorching the earth.

"I'm quite old, you know," Harry says, stretching out next to Eggsy.

"I know, but that doesn't matter. You're bloody gorgeous," Eggsy says. "And I care about you."

Harry shakes his head but kisses Eggsy anyway, pushing his thoughts aside. He's been with men and women before, sure, but there's something about Eggsy which leaves him feeling vulnerable.

Eggsy smiles against the lips of his love, feeling warmth spread through his body. This is too pure, too wonderful. He hardly notices as Harry reaches over him for the drawer; all he notices is how it feels to roll onto his back with the beautiful Harry Hart above him. Fuck, he can't stop touching Harry's hair or kissing whichever part of Harry is closest to his lips. Harry's finger is inside him again, cautiously probing him, and Eggsy moans. This is how it feels to be cherished.

Reaching between them, he palms Harry's hard cock. He's never wanted anyone more in his life. "Please, Harry."

Eggsy either really wants this or he's a superb actor, given the way he's writhing and mewling, but Harry decides he doesn't care the reasoning behind it. Despite his efforts and attempts at self-control, he's fallen deeply for Eggsy and can no longer practice restraint.

"Yes, Eggsy," he says. Harry rolls the condom on his own cock and applies lube his cock and Eggy’s opening. Once aligned, he pushes inside slowly and gently, reveling in the way Eggsy’s clings to his back. It's divine and sweet and consuming, two people finally able to be completely themselves with each other.

Harry finds himself in a cocoon of Eggsy's limbs, entirely safe and warm. He tastes Eggsy on his tongue, lapping at teeth and cheeks and neck and chest, but it's when he meets Eggsy's gaze, completely raw and vulnerable, that he comes undone. It's not quiet and it's not controlled, yet Eggsy just smiles until Harry's capable of kissing again.

The young man's grip tightens around Harry, ankles locked tight and hands pressing into skin. He's not ready to let go of the weight, to feel Harry's cock leave his body. He just wants this moment to last as long as it can, one moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

Eventually after several long minutes of gentle groping and sloppy kisses, Harry shifts off of Eggsy. He tosses the condom in the bin by the bed and smiles at Eggsy laying limply against the mattress.

"Shit," Harry says, gently reaching for Eggsy's arm. Eggsy quickly looks at the bandage on his bicep to see it stained red, a new addition to the pristine white gauze.

He peeks beneath the material and shrugs. "Popped a stitch. I'll go to medical in the morning."

"I can fix it now," Harry says. "Are you in any pain?"

Eggsy chuckles, a beautiful blush spreading across his cheeks. "Not at all."

Harry kisses him again before crawling from the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. Eggsy sinks onto his back and stares at the ceiling. Harry Hart was gorgeous in a suit but he was simply irresistible when he was nude and walking away. He hears the sink running and then sits up when Harry's shadow crosses over the bed.

Flicking on the lamp, Harry sets a small medical box on the nightstand and pops gloves onto his hands. Eggsy marvels at how practiced this all is for Harry, just another day at the office.

The two men are quiet as Harry removes the bandage from Eggsy's arm. He sprays a disinfectant before carefully removing the old line of sutures; Eggsy doesn't even flinch. It only takes Harry seconds to lace the skin back together and he finishes with a tidy knot. He applies an ointment to relieve pain and fight infection and then carefully wraps the wound again.

"Try not to flex so much," Harry says as he presses his lips to the gauze. "Don't want to have to do that again later when it's more healed."

"Is there anything you can't do?" Eggsy asks.

"I can't sing," Harry says. "At all."

"I'm sure that's not true," Eggsy says, watching as Harry places all the medical supplies back in the box. "I think you can do it all."

"I couldn't do what you do," Harry says. "You do Liza so effortlessly."

"It's easy," Eggsy says. "She's a part of me. Always will be."

"I like her very much, too," Harry says, clapping a hand on Eggsy's knee. "You should get under the covers. You'll need your rest."

"You too, old man," Eggsy says. "Sleep with me, beside me."

"Of course," Harry says, depositing the box on the nightstand. They move together, and Harry pauses when he sees Eggsy's tattoo again. "Why did you get this?"

"It felt important," Eggsy says. "I had looked at that medal every day since you gave it to me. It felt like my father was with me, so I just made the decision to have it permanently." Harry traces the emblem with his finger, feeling the small ridges left in Eggsy's skin.

"Do you still have the medal?" Harry asks, dropping a chaste kiss in the center of the tattoo.

"It was taken from me."

"By who?"

"Dean," Eggsy says. "I was fifteen."

"Why?"

"He was in a rage," Eggsy says. "He was disgusted with me, I suppose."

"Whatever for?" Harry asks, brushing Eggsy's hair gingerly with his fingers. "I can't imagine anyone ever being disgusted with you."

"He found out I'm gay," Eggsy answers, calmly. He knows he should be feeling nervous — he's never shared this with anyone — but telling Harry feels right. "He found a magazine under my bed, but there weren't any naked ladies inside, only men. He was furious. Do you know what his reaction was to being so utterly revolted by his gay stepson?" Harry shakes his head. "He pushed me against the counter, pulled down my pants and fucked me right there. I swear I can still feel the plastic digging into my hips and the cold laminate against my cheek. Suppose he thought I would hate the act forever because of what he did to me." Eggsy can't read the mask on Harry's face, and he is really sad he ruined their tender moment, so he smiles. "He was wrong."

"He raped you, Eggsy."

"Yes."

"Did you tell anyone?"

"I told you."

"Eggsy."

"What, Harry?" Eggsy asks, wrapping his hands around Harry's wrists by his own ears. "Boys don't get raped. Nobody cares if a prostitute does. But now you know why I have to keep him away from Daisy. I don't think he'd hurt her currently but who knows what he'll do in a few years."

"Does your mum know?"

"My mum's been whacked out of her mind since my dad died," Eggsy says, "and I suspect she's endured much the same but dulls it with the drugs. This is her seventh time in rehab."

"Eggsy." Harry's cool and calm, hovering over Eggsy with all the softness and gentleness of warm rain falling on a spring's night.

"You keep saying my name like it's a prayer." Eggsy's hands drift to Harry's hips, pressing gently into the muscle beneath skin.

"That's because I'm completely in awe of you."

Eggsy rakes his bottom lip between his teeth before leaning up to kiss Harry. "You're bad for business."


	8. Chapter 8

Eggsy stretches, stirring when his hand runs into nothingness. He opens his eyes to see Harry knotting a tie around his neck, watching Eggsy.

"Good morning," Harry says. "How are you feeling?"

"Great," Eggsy says. "You?"

"Lovely," Harry answers, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Eggsy's thigh. "You should sleep."

"You've got important things to do?" Eggsy asks as he sits up, the sheet pooling around his waist.

"Sadly," Harry says. "Just go down the stairs and to the second door on the left when you're ready for breakfast."

"Thank you," Eggsy says, taking Harry's hand. "Can't I tempt you to come back to bed?"

"It'll have to wait until tomorrow," Harry says. "I'm taking the day off once we get everything filed away."

"Perfect," Eggsy says. "Second door on the left downstairs?"

"Yes, Eggsy."

"Say it again.” Eggsy coos, leaning towards Harry.

"Eggsy."

Eggsy giggles and tugs on Harry's freshly placed tie. He kisses the gentleman briefly, just giving him enough of a tease.

"See you soon, Harry."

Eggsy eats a delicious breakfast with Daisy by his side, and he doesn't mind when Roxy asks to take her outside for awhile. Eggsy would love nothing more than to see how Pippa is doing, and he wanders down to the medical wing. He presses his hand to the scanner that allows him access to places throughout the mansion.

Pippa's asleep but turns her head when Eggsy takes her hand.

"It's me, babe," Eggsy says softly. "How are you?"

"Alive," Pippa answers, blinking. "Thank God you're here actually. I need my hair and that Roxy girl tried but no one can do it like you. I feel completely horrid and would like not to look as bad as I feel."

"Of course," Eggsy says. "Do you have a wig?"

"I'd really just like a wrap,” Pippa answers.

"Certainly," Eggsy says, opening the small armoire in the room. A silk scarf hangs there, one of Pippa's favorites, and he pulls it from its place. Pippa smiles as Eggsy gently wraps it around her head, cushioning her head. "How's that?"

"Great, thanks.” Pippa says, leaning against her pillows. "Eggsy?"

"Yes, babe?"

"Where the fuck are we?"

Eggsy laughs. "I don't even know how to begin to explain it."

"Eggs," Pippa says, gently grabbing Eggsy's wrist. "I'm currently medically paralyzed from the waist down to numb the pain with a tube coming out of my gut sucking out waste and it hurts to breathe. Please try."

Eggsy relents and tells the story beginning with his father's death and finishing where they sit in the pristine room of the medical wing. Pippa has a few questions but smiles when Eggsy's finished.

"Oh, honey."

"What?" Eggsy asks, shuffling his cap nervously off and on his head.

"You let him fuck you, didn't you?" There's no judgment in her voice but Pippa just rubs Eggsy's arm. "That's great! How was it?"

Eggsy nibbles his bottom lip before answering. "The best. I don't know, Pip, I just feel like myself. He never judged me for what I do or who I am, and he makes me feel..." Eggsy pauses because he isn't quite sure how to explain it. "It's like he sees all the dark spots in my life but doesn't necessarily think they're ugly, you know? They're a part of me but they don't keep the light from shining and he sees that."

"Of course he fuckin' sees it, Eggs," Pippa says, gently taking Eggsy’s hand. "You're like the sun on a rainy day. Maybe not perfect but always warm. Something tells me he's got a lot of dark spots, too, but you're more aware of his light."

That was true, Eggsy supposed. Harry was a highly trained killer with certain skills that were probably unbecoming to the average person, but all Eggsy could see was the brave, kind man he had come to love.

"My heart," Pippa laughs, "you're really in it this time."

Eggsy blushes and playfully swats Pippa's shoulder.

 

Harry finds Eggsy just he's closing the door to Daisy's temporary room. Eggsy smiles and slips his arm around around Harry's waist.

"She's already asleep," Eggsy says. "She's happy here."

"I'm glad," Harry says. "May I talk to you?"

"Yeah," Eggsy says, following Harry back to the room they had shared the previous evening. When the door is closed, Eggsy can't stop himself from reaching for Harry's collar and kissing him.

"Eggsy, please," Harry rasps, trying to push the young man away but instead gripping his shoulders at the feeling of them under his touch. "It's important."

"This is too," Eggsy whispers before nipping Harry's earlobe. He's pulling Harry's shirt from his pants and licking his neck. The taste of Harry's skin is delicious — something warm, a little salty and very clean — and Eggsy moans.

"Fuck it." Harry has absolutely no resolve where Gary Unwin is concerned, and while that could be dangerous, he is certainly going to enjoy it in the moment. He can hardly see why Eggsy should get to enjoy the lead while both of them are capable, so it's only a matter of seconds before Eggsy's jeans and pants are around his ankles and Harry Hart is on his knees.

Eggsy groans as his back hits the door behind him and his fingers work their way into Harry's hair. "Fuckin' hell, Harry."

Harry smiles around the beautiful cock on his tongue, cherishing the way Eggsy can make his name a hymn. It's been too long since Harry's done this and Eggsy's rather the perfect specimen. It’s only a matter of a few heated minutes before Eggsy's release fills Harry's greedy mouth.

It's the sight when Harry stands upright that catches him off guard — Eggsy, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly and his eyes so bright. His lips curl into a smile and Harry feels it in his chest. This is not simply lust, this is so much more and Harry knows he is forever a different man. Eggsy is so lovely and so worthy of love, and Harry considers it an honor and privilege to be the man who gets to love him.

For today, at least.

Eggsy's stretched out in bed again when Harry returns from the bathroom with a glass of water for each of them. He takes a sip before placing the cup on the nightstand and settling in. He could take a nap right now, especially if Harry were beside him.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" He asks, his eyes closed and chest moving steadily.

Harry doesn't answer, but instead brushes cold fingers across the tattoo on Eggsy's chest. He sighs when Eggsy’s fingers curl in his.

"Could you give it up, Eggsy?"

"What?"

"Everything? Could you give up your nights at the club and your clients afterwards?"

"I can't give up Liza — she's a part of me. But she doesn't have to be that club or those men. Harry, I would give up that part of it if I had a boyfriend."

“A boyfriend!” Harry snorts, rubbing his forehead with the butts of his palms.

Eggsy sits up, reaching for Harry's chest. He splays his fingers above Harry’s beating heart, feeling its steady rhythm. "I’ve not had a serious relationship in many years but I could give up that part of it because it wouldn't just be me then."

"It's not just you now. It's you and Daisy."

"Yes," Eggsy says, gently brushing his fingers through the hair at Harry's temple, "but I've got to feed her, clean her, dress her, get her to school, keep her healthy with a roof over her head. If that means I have to sleep with a few people to make sure she's all right, that's what I'll do."

Harry's head drops and his eyes close. Eggsy is brave and compassionate, and Harry sighs. He should have been selfish a little longer.

"Harry, what's wrong? What aren't you telling me?” Eggsy says, looping his legs around Harry’s waist and his arms around his chest, keeping him like a vice.

"They want to wipe your memory."


	9. Chapter 9

"You fuckin' want to erase my memory?" Eggsy asks, pacing around Merlin's office. Harry stands by the door, unsure of what to do for the first time in a long time.

"I don't particularly want to do anything," Merlin says. "It's protocol."

"I won't consent."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Merlin says. "It wouldn't be today anyway. We want Pippa to be able to leave with you as she'll have her memory wiped, too."

"Fuck that. What about you and me?" Eggsy says, stepping right up to Harry so their chests touch. "Or was you just taking the piss when you kissed me and fucked me?"

"Eggsy, no." It's quiet, and Harry's heart diminishes like ash and smoke on the wind. It was dangerous to involve Eggsy, and even more dangerous to be involved with Eggsy. "I meant all of it. I mean all of it."

"What then?" Eggsy says. "I forget all about you? How happy and able I've felt since meeting you? You go on and remember this — us — while I go back to the club and get fucked by meaningless tossers? I hope you're happy, Harry Hart, and I hope you're not lying to me and that you feel an ache in your chest for the rest of your miserable life."

Tears threaten to roll down Eggsy's cheeks, glossing over his green eyes so they look like glass — glass that could shatter beneath Harry's lost stare. Harry remains frozen, unable to reach out. To reach out would only make things worse.

Eggsy turns quickly, fingers outstretched for the doorknob before he shrieks, a gold letter opener shaped like a sabre shaking violently from its new lodging just above Eggsy's fingers.

"Ah ah," Merlin says. "There's another way."

"I can't," Harry says. "Not yet."

"Besides that," Merlin answers, a sharp look passing between them. Eggsy notes it and reminds himself to ask Harry about it — if he is able to remember any of this. "Kingsman employees can know of our organization. We've been observing you for sometime and you would make a great agent."

"Can't," Eggsy says. "I can't die and leave Daisy alone."

"Of course not."

"Anything else?"

"We have all sorts of positions available," Merlin says, clicking on his computer. "Launderer. Custodian. Groundskeeper. Assistant chef."

"I'll do anything if it means I get to keep Harry, even if it's only in memory."

"Have you ever seen how you're being brought in when you arrive by train?" Merlin asks, standing from his chair and walking around his desk. He touches the corner of a picture frame Eggsy had always appreciated for a depiction of two Irish Setters in a field but it comes to life as a moving map of London. "Kingsman Tailors on Saville. Lock & Co. on St. James. Three others here, here and here." Merlin points to the locations on the map as their addresses and names pop up above the building. "We would like to add another," Merlin zooms in with his finger, "here."

"Next to The Cock and Hen?"

"Yes," Merlin supplies shortly.

"That's Harmony Avenue," Eggsy says. "It's the heart of the gay community."

"I know," Merlin says. "Shouldn't our interests be represented as well?"

" 'Course, yeah."

"We give you a store with access to the Kingsman tunnels and you provide for us a front and observation."

"You would do that?"

"It's not just for you," Merlin says, "or Harry. It is for the benefit of Kingsman, and in turn, the benefit of the world. We need the space, you need a job and the business we have will blend."

"What is it?"

"What you already do," Merlin says, swiping the screen with his fingers. Eggsy gasps as the simulated image fills his eyes — a beautiful shop with large windows containing gorgeous mannequins dressed in the finest lingerie. "A boutique for the beautiful inside and out, full of leather, lace and little things for lovers. If you would like, we can bring in whatever beauty products you prefer."

"But why are you trusting me with this?"

"You'll be trained," Merlin says. "Business classes start when you do. You'll keep up with stock, sales, you already know how to custom tailor a dress and underwear. And in the dressing room, there will be a switch to get us to headquarters. You can work normal business hours, you'll have insurance for you and your sister, steady and consistent pay. With a little time, it should become v—"

"Yes."

"Eggsy, you should give it some thought," Harry says, resting a hand on Eggsy's shoulder.

"No," Eggsy says. "I want this. I want nothing more than this. If you'll give me this, I'll take it."

Merlin chuckles and shakes his head. He thumps Harry's chest. "Leave it to you to find the only boy in England who likes you better than his way in life."

"Merlin." Even in the dimness of Merlin's office, Harry's cheeks blossom pink and Eggsy grins.

"Liza is my way of life, that's it," Eggsy says. "But this little shop could be fun."

"Good," Merlin says. "Class tomorrow. We'll train you in self-defense and hand guns, even though you'll only be armed with tranquilizer as that is the global standard now. You must keep our secrets."

"I'm very good at keeping secrets." Eggsy winks and Harry's stomach clentches. Fucking clever boy.

"I'll get the paperwork started," Merlin says. "We need you to sign a few non-disclosure agreements as well."

"Of course," Eggsy says. "I'm ready."

 

It has been one month since Eggsy took the position with Kingsman and two weeks since Eggsy, Daisy, and Spanner the Cat moved into Harry's house. It was logical, given that Harry's house was so much larger, quieter and nicer, with a yard for Daisy and green park within walking distance. Eggsy and Harry tried to be adults and keep apart, but Harry hated when Eggsy would skip out after a quick fuck or having to take his own suit over to Eggsy's when his own closet was perfectly arranged. He also hated sleeping alone without the young man.

Harry was there the night Eggsy quit the club, the night Eggsy came home with bruises in the shape of a hand on his neck. Dean hadn't been happy about Eggsy's departure and he wanted to make sure Eggsy knew it. Of course Eggsy knew of Dean's displeasure but decided to be done with the entire situation rather than continuing the fight.

So, here Harry is, tucked comfortably upon his own mattress with Eggsy sleeping on the other pillow and the small girl between them. Harry had never considered himself a family man — not that it couldn't be done, to be an agent and have a family — but it never seemed right for him. He smiles at the ceiling with the thought of unexpected desires now come to fruition. Eggsy's every bit as beautiful asleep as he is awake, and Harry leaves the lightest kiss on his brow before climbing easily from bed. He’s got a task to complete today and the less Eggsy knows of it, the better off he is.

Harry leaves a note on the counter, and that’s that.

 

Three days have gone by, and Harry’s biding his time. This whole thing with Eggsy may end, but it’s better this way. Eggsy will be better this way.

He sits in the living room of his home, a paper in front of his face, and he continues to sit in nonchalance as the front door opens.

Eggsy's there, but he leans against the doorjamb instead of settling in his favorite place next to Harry.

“How was your day, dear?” Harry asks, lowering the paper only enough so his eyes are visible.

“Er, not great,” Eggsy answers, rubbing his jaw. “I’ve just come from the morgue."

“Eggsy, is everything all right?"

“Don’t play me,” Eggsy says, dropping his arm. Harry wouldn’t say his lover is angry, but he’s definitely upset. “Dean’s dead and you know it."

“Your stepfather is dead?"

“Harry.” Eggsy says sharply. “They found a Guinness bottle shoved up his arse and his dick had been ripped off and shoved in his mouth. He choked on his own penis, Harry. I know that was you."

Harry doesn’t say anything. How can he?

Eggsy takes a deep breath and rubs his face. “I’m a little conflicted, as you can assume.” He flops onto the sofa next to the man who has recently slaughtered his stepfather, a man who was dark hole on the plane of his existence. “He was awful and terrible, and I’m much happier knowing he can’t hurt my mother or Daisy again, but killing people generally is a negative thing.” He says it so plainly Harry can’t help but smile. “To be perfectly honest, I am slightly terrified but I’m incredibly grateful.” Eggsy climbs onto Harry’s lap and takes his cheeks between his palms. “So, I am choosing to ignore the sirens ringing in my head and going with the positive. Thank you, Harry Hart, for eliminating a danger to my life and the lives of my family.” He kisses Harry once before pulling away suddenly. “They won’t be able to tell it was you, will they?"

Harry shakes his head, licking his lips. Eggsy’s cheeks are red from the day he’s had and Harry just wants to bite them.

“Good,” Eggsy says, dropping his hands to Harry’s chest. “I can’t lose you now I’ve found you."

“Never."

Harry’s standing then, Eggsy’s legs wrapped firmly around his hips and their lips even closer than that. Harry manages the stairs like this, laughter bursting from Eggsy’s mouth when Harry trips over his own feet and tosses Eggsy against the wall.

Once in the bedroom they share, clothes are hectically thrown to the floor, and Eggsy’s looped around Harry. Eggsy's working with the lubricant cream, his thighs squeezed so tightly around Harry, the older man doesn't move. Harry moans when Eggsy's hand slips between their bodies and the tip of a finger breaches Harry's rim. He works slowly, only one finger and then another, Harry's chest shaking with Eggsy's effort. Eggsy doesn't kiss but nips or breathes, and Harry's about had it with games.

Eggsy raises his eyebrows as he removes his fingers, reaching now for a condom. Harry attempts to snatch it from those slick fingers, but Eggsy is quicker. Pushing on Eggsy's shoulder, Harry attempts to roll them over, but Eggsy isn't having that either. Harry's rolled onto his stomach, waiting as he hears the foil being ripped from the condom and Eggsy's pressed entirely against his back.

Harry understands Eggsy's need for this, to be in control, but he wasn't expecting to enjoy it as much as he is. There's the unpleasant sting as Eggsy presses inside him, full and thick, and Harry's grasping onto the pillow beneath his head.

Eggsy moves with the grace of a ballerina and the strength of a thunderstorm. He's precise and controlled, never losing his rhythm. Hot breath on his ear sends shivers through Harry's body, every single hair standing on edge. It's never felt quite like this, a slow, delicious boil, and yet it is everything Harry never knew he wanted.

It's when Eggsy's fingers tighten around Harry's that Harry climaxes brilliantly, one single cry escaping his throat, all coherency going with it.

This is the man Eggsy has chosen to love, always composed and in control. Now Harry's a shuddering soul beneath him, a livewire sparking against the pavement. He murdered Dean, sure, but he also saved Eggsy's life. He's provided a beautiful home and a career, and he genuinely cares for Eggsy.

That is enough.

Harry seems to catch a second wind and is more amicable to curving his arse into the so Eggsy can move just so, and then Eggsy is pulsing inside him with a bite sure to bruise Harry's shoulder.

Eggsy flops next to Harry a few minutes later, both of them on their backs and staring at the white ceiling.

"I do suppose I could have been a little kinder in the approach," Harry says. "It might have been a little much."

"No, no." Eggsy's rolls his head towards Harry who looks at him. "I fully support your approach to killing Dean. He deserved the pain."

"He certainly screamed enough."

"I want to get him buried so we can move on."

"I make a few calls and have him dropped tomorrow, if you like."

"You can do that?"

Harry nods.

"You never cease to amaze me, Harry Hart." Eggsy knows it's wrong to feel as he does for the man who kills people on a regular basis, but that's just Harry. He shifts for a kiss, warm lips against wet tongue, and then he pauses. "You wouldn't hurt me or Dais, would you?"

Harry sighs, swinging his hand up to Eggsy's cheek. "It has been my privilege and honor to have you in my home — our home. I would give my life for you, Eggsy."

Eggsy smiles, covering Harry's hand with his own. "Yeah, that'll do."


End file.
